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SIX LITTLE REBELS 


BY 

MRS. KATE TANNATT WOODS 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 



library of CONGRESS 
Two Codes Received 

APB 2T 1907 

V Copyneht Entry 



Copyright, 1879, by D. Lothrop and Company. 
Copyright, 1907, by Kate Tannatt Woods. 


Six Little Rebels. 


« 


NorfajDoti ^ress: 

Berwick & Smith Co., Norwood, Mass., TJ.S.A. 


DEDICATED 

TO 

THE BLUE AND GREY 
BY THEIR FAITHFUL 
FRIEND 


THE AUTHOR 





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WHY A PREFACE OR INTRODUC- 
TION IS UNNECESSARY. 

This little volume is a simple story of Boys and Girls 
during the first years of our Civil War. They fought 
battles in their own way ; suffered, hoped, feared and 
rejoiced ; and yet, so far as the writer knows, no one 
has told their story. 

Unpretentious as this book is, it requires neither the 
names of many heroes, nor the dates of many battles, 
to convince every reader that the writer saw, heard and 
suffered, with the 

Six Little Rebels. 

Should any eyes read the dedication and pause in 
wonder, let me beg them to do more, and accept the 
story which follows as a prelude to the work itself, or, 
if custom must be regarded, let the reader consider it 
as an 

Introductory Chapter. 

One dull rainy morning, a young woman ran down 
the steps of a large house in the city of Washington fol- 
lowed by a colored boy bearing a basket. She walked 
rapidly, scarcely heeding the pools of water on the 
walk, and the well-fed boy trotted on behind. 


A Prelude. 


Evidently the brisk walk in the rain was a pleasure 
to her, for her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and 
her step elastic. 

She entered the yard of the Judiciary Square Hospi- 
tal and saluted the guard. Her face was doubtless 
familiar, for she passed in like one about her business, 
and the servant left her with the basket at the door, 
as if accustomed to the duty. 

Two young surgeons who were chatting in the hall, 
came forward to assist her in removing her rain cloak. 

“Why did you venture down on such a terrible 
day ? asked the elder surgeon as he lifted her basket 
from the floor. 

“ I promised,” was the brief reply. 

“ Since promises are sacred with you,” he answered, 
smiling, “ do not forget one to my wife, she hopes to 
see you before you leave the building to-day.” 

“ I will remember, unless some of my poor boys are 
worse.” 

Together they walk down the long hall, he bearing 
her basket, which he does not give her until they reach 
the door of a small room ; the little “voluntary ” enters 
and seems perfectly at home. 

Two women are there before her, one lying on the 
bed, the other arranging her false front, which by some 
means has tilted on one side, bringing the parting over 
her left eye. 

The little nurse says a few pleasant words to them 
which they respond to, but it is plain to see that they 
regard it as a highly improper place for “ such a chit of 


A Prelude, 


The little “ chit ” did not mind. 

Long before, Miss Dix, excellent soul, had found 
that all skill, wisdom, and tact, were not confined to 
long, lank, disagreeable but worthy old women with false 
hair and teeth ; if she had not, the “ boys ” had, and 
the surgeons also. The little nurse leaves these some- 
what grim companions and goes out into the ward ; she 
nods on the right, she smiles on the left, and glad eager 
faces greet her ; but under the welcome her quick eye 
detects trouble ; what it is, she hardly knows, but she 
is determined to find out. Walking up to a bed in the 
end of the room, she asks a man of about forty who 
seems delighted to see her : 

“ Is there anything wrong .? ” 

“ Yes,” he replies, “that rebel out yonder has put us 
most crazy ; wish you could have him put somewhere 
else, the doctors would, if you asked them.” 

The patients are directing uneasy glances toward a 
bed near the door. 

“ We shall never get well,” said a one legged soldier, 
“ if that Johnnie keeps on.” The “ Johnnie ” has been 
there three days now and every one has tried to be 
kind to him, all but the young voluntary nurse, she has 
looked that way many times but has been warned not 
to approach him he is so furious and stubborn. 

“ Poor fellow,” she says, “ he is all alone here, and 
the fever makes him rave about his troubles, don’t 
mind him.” She whispers a few words to a stew- 
ard, who declares “it is no earthly use,” but the little 
nurse thinks otherwise, she thinks of her own darling 
brother, perhaps in a Southern prison, and she walks 


A Prelude, 


firmly down the row and approaches his cot. He will 
not answer one question, but stares at the wall ; she is 
half afraid to touch him, but her heart is full of sorrow, 
and she still thinks of her own “ Boston Boy.” She 
takes from her basket a bottle of bay water and bathes 
his head ; he scowls but does not speak. 

The strong, proud, man, lying so helpless among 
strangers, and those whom he calls enemies, is more to 
her now because he needs help so much more than her 
old patients, who are watching her closely. She hesi- 
tates, ponders, and breathes quickly ; then, with a half- 
frightened movement she bends lower, and lower, over 
the sick man, still bathing his burning temples. Her 
knees just touch the floor, her face is near his pillow, 
and there, with her hand on his head, she breathes in 
his ear a little prayer which the waiting angels carry up 
to heaven’s gate, and the sick man listens to as he 
never listened before. 

Sick, wounded, sore-distressed, he may be, but he is 
no longer alone. 

The little nurse rises from her position ; so gently 
does she do this, that the man in the next cot won- 
ders if she knelt at all. The “Johnnie’s” eyes are 
closed, and the nurse moves away. All that morning 
he is quiet, trying perhaps, to catch her words, as she 
reads in a low tone to some men in the upper row ; no 
more idle boasting, no more desire for revenge, escapes 
him. When the dinner hour comes, he no longer re- 
fuses food, for the little nurse sits by, and feeds him. 
She takes from her basket an orange, and with her own 




A Prelude. 


fruit knife cuts it in fanciful shapes, telling him how 
“the girls used to do so at school.’’ 

He is amused, and says he has two sisters, no mother, 
none for years, but an old father. They become fast 
friends, and day after day as he grows more gentle, the 
men say “ Little Nursey has converted him,” and one 
and another send him portions of their gifts, with 
kindly messages. 

He has hours when he talks of his South Carolina 
home, and tells his little friend when he gets well and 
goes back, he will tell them how kind the Yankees were 
to him, and she, his little nurse, shall come there, and 
have the best the old state can give, and know his dear 
sisters. 

A few days go by, and the little nurse is herself a 
patient in the large house. When at last she goes back, 
the surgeon shows her a white sheet drawn over the 
dark curly head and tells her he left her a message, al- 
though it was sudden at last. 

The little nurse neither sees, nor hears; she is think- 
ing of those sisters, of the desolate home ; and as she 
stoops down and kisses the handsome, thin face and her 
tears fall on the face of the dead; one of the old women 
passes her a pair of scissors, and she takes from the 
well shaped head one curling lock. 

“ His way, was not our way,-’ she says, “ hut he was 
true to his sense of right. So long ago ; so long, that the 
number of the regiment is lost, but safe in an old worn 
pocket-book, there lies a lock of dark hair, and by its 
side, a light one, and on the time-worn yellow paper is 
written ; “ The Blue and Grey”. 




CONTENTS. 


A Prelude. 

CHAP. PAGB 

1. — In the Beginning — A Letter - - ii 

2. — A Terrible Night . - . . 23 

3. — More Letters and some Plans - - 32 

4. — How THE Swarm settled down - - 43 

5. — More Arrivals at the “ Woodbox ” - 56 

6. — News from Europe . - - - 68 

7. — Miss Lucinda to the Rescue - - - 78 

8. — Flitting - 92 

9. — Lex in Trouble 106 

10. — Gay Doings 119 

11. — Rufus Choate and Wonderland - - 134 

12. — The Peace Sisters - - - - 15 1 

13. — A Quarrel with Dick - - - - 171 

14. — Walter’s Secret 194 


4 


V 


Contents, 


CHAP. PAGE 

15. — News from the Front - - - *211 

16. — Travellers in Dixie - - - - 225 

17. — Battles at School - - - - - 243 

18. — Good News 259 

19. — Strange Guests at the White House - 271 

20. — Lex makes a Present - - - - 288 

21. — Throwing Pontoons 305 

22. — A Raid on the Potomac - - - 321 

23. — Dolly is sick 332 

24. — A “ Corned Pig ” 345 

25. — A Repentant Darkey - - - “355 

26. — Breaking up - - - - - - 371 

27. — About Boys — Cora to Dolly- - - 389 

28. — One more Summer - - - - 402 


SIX LITTLE REBELS. 


CHAPTER I. 

IN THE BEGINNING A LETTER. 

APA and I were in the library 
when Axy brought up the letter. 
Papa read it, and passed it over 
to me. Now dates and I had a 
falling out long ago or rather, 
we never fell in, but I distinctly 
remember without looking at 
the letter at all, that it was written in Jan- 
uary, 1 86 1, and everybody knows Fort Sum- 
ter was bombarded in April following. 



12 


Six Little Rebels, 


I am perfectly honest in saying I was 
cross when the letter came, for papa was 
explaining to me a passage in the XIV. Book 
of the Iliad, and his description was so fine 
I could not be quite patient when Axy 
showed her turbaned head. Who ever heard 
of a girl or boy of fourteen who was very 
patient ? 

Well papa read it as I said and handed it 
across the table to me saying : 

“ You had better read it aloud daughter, it 
is from poor Gresham.” 

“ Poor Gresham,” as papa called him, I 
remembered as a tall, elegant looking man, 
who patted me on the head when I was quite 
small, and praised my long curls. I knew 
he was a far away cousin of papa’s, that he 
lived in Richmond, was very wealthy, and 
never failed to send long, kind letters every 
month to his “ Cousin ” and old classmate. 

He was papa’s friend, consequently I liked 
him in a distant fashion, but I never could 
quite understand why in speaking of him 



2n ike Beginning — A Letter, ig 

papa generally said “ poor Gresham,” or “ poor, 
dear old fellow,” until I read that letter. It 


was dated at Richmond, and read as follows : 


“My dear Warrington: I have a great 
favor to ask of you, which I could not ask at 
the hands of any other man. 


H 


Six Little Rebels. 


“You know very well that my sister Alice 
has managed my household ever since the 
death of my beloved wife. We seem to be 
especially afflicted since that terrible loss ; 
Allie’s husband, whom you remember — 
Judge Neville of the Nevilles formerly from 
Lynchburg — has been suddenly stricken 
with paralysis while performing his duties in 
the court-room; the physicians here tell us 
that his life depends on his immediate re- 
moval from home, and all cares of offlce. 
They desire us to go with him to Europe. 
After many discussions and plans, we can 
only decide that it is utterly impossible for 
her to go alone, and I must accompany her ; 
under such circumstances, what can be done 
with our children } To leave them here 
with servants is impossible; my three boys, 
with Allie’s two, are a host in themselves, 
and require careful handling. We did think 
of placing them in good boarding-schools, 
but I dread such a step, as it robs them of 
all a boy needs most in his growing-up home 


In the Beginning — A Letter. 75 

influence; and the honest truth is, dear War- 
rington, I am extremely anxious about the 
future of our country; trouble is impending, 
is even now here, how serious it will be none 
can foretell. I pray God as a lover of my 
country that the madness of a few politicians 
may not plunge us into a fratricidal war. 

“In this unsettled condition of affairs, may 
I send these lads to you, not for your per- 
sonal care, but, with a strong desire that you 
will place them in good schools, where you 
can have a general oversight of them ? 

“ Family schools I prefer, for our poor lads 
are likely to suffer the loss of all home re- 
straints for several months; I trust it may 
not be longer. 

“ I know you are devoted to your only child, 
and I feel the magnitude of my request. I 
only ask that you will act as their guardian 
until my return, and in order that all finan- 
cial matters may be arranged with as little 
trouble as possible to you, I will, if you 
consent, place in the Bank of North America 


i6 


Six Little Rebels. 


in New York, a liberal allowance for all 
expenses for one year. Let me hear at once 
for we must sail as early as next week with 
our invalid. Arnold, my confidential clerk, 
will remain in charge of my affairs in Rich- 
mond, and will also act as escort to the lads 
if you consent. 

“ Do not hesitate to refuse if your health is 
not better than when I saw you last, I can- 
not afford to add one pang to your life of 
suffering. 

“Your cousin and friend, 

“Charles Warrington Gresham.” 

That was the letter. When I had finished 
reading it, I saw papa’s eyes were moist and I 
knew very well that “ cousin Gresham’s ” boys 
were safe in his hands. 

“ It all depends on you little woman,” said 
papa. “ Shall we take them in and do our 
best for them in our ‘ Woodbox ’ or send a 
cold letter of refusal to poor Gresham ? ” 


In the Beginning — A Letter, ly 

“ Why, I have nothing to say about it, you 
dear old pa, but I should like to know where 
we could put five boys in our little cottage ? ” 
I replied. 

Years before I had heard papa say that his 
young bride had playfully christened the 
cottage on the Georgetown Heights as “ The 
Woodbox” and ever since the family friends 
had known it by that name. 

I am afraid that selfishness was one of my 
faults in those days, but you must remember 
that I was spoiled by a very indulgent father, 
and a good old nurse ; and for long years, the 
one who would have seen all shortcomings 
and corrected them, had been sleeping in 
that loveliest of all cemeteries our own “ Oak- 
wood.” 

It seemed a dreadful thing to have the 
peace and quiet of our pleasant home broken 
up. Axy had been our only housekeeper for 
two years, and I was trying hard to do things 
as “mamma used to,” If I arranged a nose^ 


1 8 Six Little Rebels. 

gay or made a loaf of cake which papa said 
reminded him of my sainted mother I was a 
proud, happy girl. 

All my studies went on under papa’s eyes 
except music and drawing, and many happy 
hours we spent together in the cosy study, 
which opened from our front hall. 

“ Well, daughter,” said papa, as I twisted 
the end of a curl over one finger, and 
pouted a little, “ would you be willing to 
keep them with us until we. can find a home 
for them? I am to do with them precisely 
as I would with my own, you know, but I 
cannot take any steps without the advice of 
my little housekeeper ! ” 

“ But, papa, I do hate boys ! ” 

“ Hate boys, Dolly ! ” 

“Yes, I do, pa, and I can’t help it; they 
tag and tease girls, and make fun of old 
ladies and drunken men, and drown kittens, 
and keep up such a noise, they are horrid, 
‘just horridly 

Papa smiled a little^ and said ; 


In the Beginning — A Letter, ip 

“ Come here, little critic, and let us talk 
about these horrid creatures.” 

When we had anything very particular to 
talk about, papa always called me to my 
favorite seat on the broad arm of his chair, 
and there, with my arm about his neck, and 
his hand in mine, we settled all our little 
bothers — mj/ bothers — not papa’s. 

“ Now, Dolly,” said he, “ tell me how you 
know so much about boys ? ” 

“ Why, at the academy, papa. Didn’t I 
go there two whole terms, and didn’t I see 
with my great homely eyes the big boys 
teaze and torment the little ones ? I used 
to grow so angry, I could hardly keep from 
speaking to them and telling them how 
mean it was, and I don’t think I ever could 
like a boy, papa, unless he was a grown-up, 
dear big boy, like you.” 

“ Poor little woman,” he said, caressing 
my hand, “ it might have been quite different 
with mamma and Charlie here.” 

“ I never knew papa to mention my little 


20 


Six Little Rebels, 


dead brother but once before, and his death 
had been such a bitter grief to him, I did 
not wonder. Aunt Axy had told me all 
about it, and the memory of him should have 
softened my heart, but it did not ; I could 
only think of the noise and misery of five 
boys in one home. 

“ Poor motherless lads,” said papa, “ my 
heart aches for them,” and then I began to 
grow less wicked, for that word “ mother- 
less” means so much to me it always softens 
and subdues me. 

“ Now, papa Warrington,” I said, taking 
his handsome face between my hands, and 
half-sliding from my perch. “You call me 
your little housekeeper, do you 1 ” 

“Yes, daughter, and you improve every 
day.” 

“ Well, if I am housekeeper, why don’t you 
say : ‘ I have guests coming, and you must 
make ready for them.’ If you want the boys 
here they shall come here, you dear, hen- 
pecked papa,” 


In the Beginning — A Letter, 


21 


And then papa kissed me and declared “ I 
was a bundle of contradictions, with a good 
heart in the centre, and his best earthly com- 
fort.” After that, I think I should not have 
complained if cousin Gresham’s boys had 
walked over me. 

“You see, daughter,” said papa, talking 
with me as if I were a grown-up young lady, 
instead of a silly school-girl ; “ Gresham is 
one of ten thousand, the world does not 
know him — he is one of those grand, re- 
served characters which are sure to be mis- 
understood ; people call him cold, but that 
man has a heart like a woman’s. Alice and 
he have never been separated since they 
were left orphans, until her marriage, and 
even then, their homes were close together. 
It might brighten me up a little to have 
more young people about. I sometimes 
think a poor cripple like me, must be a dull 
companion for a bright young girl.” 

That letter seemed to make papa talka- 
tive, His helpless limbs had never once 


22 


Six Little Rebels. 


been mentioned since the doctors had ceased 
to call on him professionally, and I some- 
times wondered at it when his own patients 
came in and told long stories of their suf- 
ferings. Some of his old families would not 
give him up, although he could not go to 
them; and one of the duties which I had to 
perform was to receive the patients during 
his office hours. I suppose I may as well 
tell you now how it all happened, and why 
the once gay and active Dr. Warrington sat 
in a huge arm-chair with his “ little woman ’* 
curled up by his side. The sorrow came two 
years before the boys did, and, so after all, 
it is a part of the beginning. 


CHAPTER II 



A TERRIBLE NIGHT. 

'T was very dark and stormy, and papa 
had just said he hoped no one would 
call him out again for his head was aching, 
when the office bell rang, and Gene, the boy, 
came in to tell us that papa was wanted over 
the river, to attend the child of a poor 
colored woman who had once lived in our 
family. I was in papa’s lap, when the mes- 
senger came, and was trying to brush off 
the ache, by passing my hands gently over 
his forehead and temples. 


23 


24 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Don’t go pa,” I said, “ let Susan get some 
one nearer, it is not best to kill yourself for 
charity.” 

“ Hush little pet,” said he as he put me 
down and took his heavy coat from Gene ; “ if 
it were my little girl instead of poor old 
Susan’s, would I like to have Dr. Howard 
refuse to come ? ” So he went out into the 
darkness, and I could not see him, although 
I put my hands on either side of my face 
and tried to. I heard him say, “ be still old 
fellow,” to his horse, and then the carriage 
rattled down the hill, and I sat down to study 
my Latin for I went to the academy then, 
and the girls were trying to surpass the boys, 
as. they had done for several terms. 

Susan’s child was very ill, and ten o’clock 
came without papa. Our housekeeper told 
me I must go to bed or my eyes would be 
heavy in the morning, so I went, Aunt Axy 
going with me just as she had done ever 
since I was born, to see that I was properly 
tucked in. The wind blew, and the shutters 


A Terrible Night 


25 


rattled so I could not sleep for a long time, 
and when I did, the clock struck four, and I 
heard a confused sound of moving to and 
fro, in the lower rooms and supposed papa 
had just returned and Gene was locking up 
after putting Dixie in his stall. 

I listened a moment. Could that be Dr. 
Howard’s voice ? 

It sounded like it. What could he be 
doing in our house at that hour ? Aunt Lu- 
cinda was up, I could hear her speaking as if 
giving directions in a suppressed tone. What 
could it mean.? Very likely papa had 
brought in some poor soul to be cared for, 
he often did that; I would put on my slip- 
pers and run down. I did so. Without 
other covering than a little plaid shawl over 
my night dress, I ran over the stairs to the 
library. No one seemed to hear me, no one 
thought of me, until I was in the room. 
There was no stranger; but my own, darling, 
my precious papa, was lying upon a mattress, 
pale, and still. With one wild cry I threw 


26 


Six Little Rebels, 


myself beside him and begged him to speak 
to me, but the lips were past speech. Dr. 
Howard and two other physicians were 
doing something to his feet, and I was in the 
way. I remember they begged me to be 
calm, told me he would soon be all right, and 
urged my going back to bed. 

What could they think of me ? Back to 
bed with my whole world wrecked before 
me? To sleep, with him dead or dying! 
How cruel they seemed. The women knew 
better. 

“ I didn’t mean she should know until 
morning,” said the housekeeper; but Aunt 
Axy put her arms about me and whispered: 

“You can’t stay away now honey, he’s 
more yours than the rest, but come now, and 
get dressed, and the doctors will mend him 
all up while we get his bed ready.” 

Something to do was a mercy. My heart 
could only flutter, not beat, and an iron hand 
seemed to bind my forehead, but I went 
with Aunt Axy, and while I hurried on my 


A Tei'rible Night. 


^7 


clothing with trembling fingers she told me 
all they knew — all the watchman had said, 
who saw it without being near enough to 
help. 



He was crossing the 
bridge on his way home, 
when a drunken man 
sprang out suddenly he- 
f 3 The spirit- 
^ ed horse 


28 


Six Little Rebels, 


plunged frantically about, and in his fright 
ran against a piece of rotten wooden railing 
which gave way, and horse, carriage and rider 
fell down to the cruel rocks below. They 
found him at last with his feet fairly tied up 
with an iron which had spanned the front 
part of his buggy. They had"' lifted him 
out, and brought him' home, but ' he had 
not spoken, although he had' groaned several 
times. 

“ It isn’t death, honey, bress de Lord for 
dat now; an’ let me fasten de buttons 
you’re gettin’ all wrong.” 

“ I am going down, now,” I said, ^feeling 
so cold and still I seemed to be having a 
dreadful dream. “ They will npt send me 
away, but we will put a bed for him in 
the sewing-roQih off of the library where he 
can see things" when ^ he, is I stopped 
there; his getting' better seemed so hopeless. 
When I went backj- they Were still at work 
on the poor mangled feet, but I passed by 
and spoke to Aunt Lucinda. 


A Terrible Night, 


29 


“ Don’t you think papa’s bed had better 
be brought down and put here in the sewing- 
room ? ” I said. “ It will be better for him.” 

“You are right, Dolly,” said Dr. Howard, 
who was one of papa’s dearest friends, “ it 
was a wise thought, my dear, and you may 
get it ready yourself.” 

Doing something, is such a comfort ; papa 
always said so. 

“ If things go wrong, little woman, work ; 
if friends turn false, work ; if trouble comes, 
work ; if slander assails you, stop your ears, 
and work.” 

He had uttered those words only two days 
before, and now the trouble was here. Aunt 
Lucinda staid below to wait upon the doc- 
tors, but Aunt Axy and I went up and down, 
and soon had papa’s own bed ready in the 
little room. I remember I covered my eyes 
when they moved him, it was too cruel to 
see my noble, handsome father, so crushed 
and helpless ; but when at last he was laid 
m his bed, with cushions to raise the cloth- 


30 


Six Little Rebels, 


ing from his limbs, Dr. Howard gave me a 
bottle of cologne, and asked me to bathe his 
temples. I tried to thank him, but the words 
would not come, and I sat down to press the 
dear head I had been trying to soothe only 
a few hours before. 

We watched him for weeks and weeks. 
The first words which passed his lips were 
“ dear little woman.” 

I hope I shall never again see such fearful 
suffering, and I know I shall never witness 
such fortitude and Christian sweetness. I 
gave up the academy, for no one could ask 
me to study, with my only relative so much 
in need' of my services. My greatest pleas- 
ure was in waiting on him all day, and dream- 
ing of him all night, while the nurse was in 
charge. 

Before that night I had been a gay, happy 
girl ; after it, I felt as old as Aunt Axy. 
One thing I resolved upon, and that was to 
devote my life to his care, let it cost what 
it might of personal comfort. 


A Terrible Night 


31 


Wicked as I was at heart about the com- 
ing of the strange boys, I was ashamed of 
it the moment he mentioned his crippled 
condition and I said, as cheerily as I could : 

“ Now, papa Warrington, those boys are 
coming here. I won’t promise to love them, 
but I will be good to them; and just as soon 
as you decide what you will write to cousin 
Gresham, we will discuss ways and means.’* 


CHAPTER III. 


MORE LETTERS AND SOME PLANS. 



HAT very evening, after our talk, papa 
wrote a long, kind letter to Colonel 
Gresham, and requested him to send one of 
his brightest negro boys to wait upon the 
lads, otherwise he feared they would not be 
comfortable. 

A prompt answer came, and I confess I 
liked Col. Gresham a little better after read- 
ing it. Here it is : 

“ God bless you, my dear doctor. You have 
made Alice and myself see one bit of blue 


More Letters and Some Plans, jj 

sky. It seems too hard not to come and 
thank you in person, but it is utterly impos- 
sible for me to leave Allie even for a day. 
Arnold will go with the boys, and you must 
not hesitate to draw on me for any amount. 
I leave all with you, but do not overburden 
yourself, or let our madcaps tease your 
daughter. Just so soon as I can leave my 
sister in safety, I shall return and thank you ; 
if it will ever be possible to do so, for your 
brotherly kindness. 

“ Alice wants me to write you some hints 
concerning our five, but I will leave you to 
read their characters for yourself. They are 
good boys, as the world goes, and I trust 
they will never forget that they are gentle- 
men. I have arranged to send Alexis — a 
bright boy who has been a kind of foster- 
brother, although older, of our little Bertie; 
he is devoted to him. Alice says he re- 
quires watching, he is so bright we have 
spoiled him. 

“ I do hope you can send me good reports, 


34 


Six Little Rebels. 


and can find, as you suggest, the kind of 
school you like, for the eldest boys. 

“ Again and again, God bless you for all 
your kindness to your grateful 
“ Friend and cousin, 

“ Gresham.” 

My letter to Aunt Lucinda comes next 
in order, after I have told you that she was 
no aunt at all, but a good Yankee woman 
who had nursed my mother, and was papa’s 
real housekeeper at the time of the terrible 
accident. She owned a nice little house near 
the sea, in Massachusetts, and her cat, chick- 
ens and relatives were very dear to her, but 
“ duty could never be shirked,” she said, and 
whenever any trouble came to us, the good 
soul found it a duty to come and look after 
us. We had done very well with Aunt Axy 
and Eugene, since papa had been able to be 
moved about in his chair, and the knowledge 
of housekeeping I had acquired, was a mat- 
ter of pride to us all, but a “girl of fourteen. 


More Letters and Some Plans, 


35 


could never be expected to manage five 
boys and a wide-awake little darky,” papa 
said; so down I sat, and wrote to Aunt 
Lucinda. 

“ I told her just how the case stood ; that I 
hated boys ; that papa’s heart was set on 
having them come, and I really could not 
live through it, unless she came to help me. 
In a few days, the following reply came: 

“West Beach, Mass. 

“ Dear Miss Dolly : I am sorry to hear 
that you hate boys. It is against Scripture. 
I have no special hankering after them, my- 
self, but the boys, as a general thing, are just 
as God made them. 

“ If an old woman like me can do you any 
good, why, of course I will come ; but I can’t 
see it clear to come before the first of Feb- 
ruary. Josiah’s second wife — he’s my only 
brother, you know — has a young child ; old 
Mis’ Tashy, one of my neighbors, is kind of 
poorly, as she has lost her son out west ; 


3 ^ 


Six Little Rebels. 


and I have promised to ’tend to the fixing up 
of Squire Budd’s summer residence. Just 
as soon as I can, I will lock up, and leave 
the key with Josiah. 

“ I am very much obliged to you for men- 
tioning Gen. Scott, for, as things look now, 
Josiah ’s children would maul him to death, 
if I left him here. He isn’t any trouble to 
speak of, and knows enough to be some- 
thing better than a cat, so I’ll just tuck him 
into my willow basket, and bring him along. 

“ My dutiful remembrance to your father. 

“ Yours, 

“ Lucinda Dodge. 

“ P. S. — I do hope those boys don’t all 
wear store stockings. L. D.” 

Papa and I could net help smiling over 
the store stockmgs, but we appreciated the 
kindness of Aunt Lucinda. 

I hardly knew what to do first. Aunt Axy 
was ready and willing, but always came to 
me for orders. 


More Letters and Some Plants. jy 

Ever since I could think, I had felt “the 
mother-want about the world,” but I never felt 
it more than while getting our “ Woodbox ” 
ready for so many guests. Since the acci- 
dent, papa had occupied the sewing-room, 
it was better for all of us, and he could be 
rolled in and out to the office in the wing, 
Nearly everything in the library and his 
room had been presented to him since his 
injuries by his grateful patients. The patent 
chair in which he spent so many hours 
was the gift of his Bible-class; his wonderful 
footstool was Dr. Howard’s own invention 
and everything about him spoke of the ten- 
derness and respect with which he was 
regarded. 

He should not be disturbed for any boys 
in creation, that I was determined on, but 
what could I do with six boys ? 

Day after day Axy and I had rolled the 
chair with our dear patient, in and out from 
the sleeping-room to the library, and then 
to the dining-room across the hall. Practice 


Six Little Rebels, 


3S 

had taught us to do it with such skill, he 
declared himself a king, and laughingly 
said we ought to try it once just to see how 
nice it was. 

Now, all would be changed; no more 
quiet chats with my hand in his ; no more 
cosy readings ; no more music after tea. 
Six horrid boys, and one of them almost a 
baby. However, I hid these things in my 
heart, and went about making papa merry 
with my nonsense. 

At first, I had thought seriously of run- 
ning over to Mrs. Howard’s and asking her 
to help me plan a little, but I concluded not 
to, for she could not tell me any more about 
the capacity of the “ Woodbox ” than I knew 
already; and what was the use of being a 
girl of fourteen, if I had to ask some one 
to help me over every difficult place. Papa 
was always preaching self-reliance. Yes, I 
would go to work, and do it all alone. If 
I blundered, papa would help me out. 

It would never do in the world to have 


More Letters and Some Plans, jp 

any boys in the room directly over papa’s, 
so the first thing to be done was to give 
up my precious “ drab and blue ” room, and 
take the small one over the sewing-room. 
The carpet of robin’s-egg blue and Quaker- 
drab which I loved so well must be trampled 
on by boys’ feet ; there was no use in chang- 
ing it, for it would not fit elsewhere, so I 
must content myself with the dingy one 
already down. The youngest boy, papa said; 
could not be more than five years old, and 
I must take him under my protecting care, 
so Axy and I hunted up in the attic until 
we found a large crib which I had slept in 
when I was about the age of the little 
stranger, and this we put up by the side of 
my own bed. 

Aunt Axy scolded and “ sputtered ” about 
it. “ ’Deed Miss Dolly,” said she, “ you is 
g’wine to begin all wrong ; it will never do 
for you to be botherin’ with a chile nights ; 
why, honey, you is nothin’ but a chile you 
ownself.” 


40 


Six Little Rebels. 


“ Now, Aunt Axy, please don’t croak. I 
will take care of the boy, you will take care 
of me, and Miss Lucinda will look after all 
of us.” So we settled it. 

There was a good bit of fun in the hard 
work, after all. Once, when I ran down to 
pat up papa’s cushions, I found he was 
troubled about the work, and my getting 
tired, and a dozen other things, because he 
could not get up and do the lion’s share, as 
he used to do. 

“ It would be a great relief to me, daugh- 
ter, if you would send Gene out for Jim 
Crow. You are not equal to moving furni- 
ture,” papa said, as I stopped on my way 
up-stairs with my arms full. 

He was really nervous about it, so I sent 
Gene away for the man, although I dreaded 
to see him return. Jim Crow was a protege 
of papa’s, a burly man of color, six feet in 
his stockings, and as lazy as he was long. 
He had the grace to respect papa, and often 
came to him with some pitiful tale of woe 


More Letters and Some Plans. 

about himself. No one believed him but 
papa, and no one could, who watched him 
lounging about the streets. But Jim came, 
and after all, he was useful. 

It was just four days of hard work to 
make ready for our Goths and Vandals. The 
bath-room was supplied with new, strong 
towels, rugs were put down before beds and 
bureaus, and a closet was turned into a 
sleeping apartment for Alexis. 

The skin was off my fingers in several 
places ; my shoulders were lame from reach- 
ing up, and my new room made me feel as 
if I had gone out on a visit and wanted to 
get home. But papa was so pleased at my 
success, and a complete description of things 
which he could not see, that I was after 
all, quite happy. 

As I am telling a true story, and don’t 
care to make people think I was very sweet 
and lovely about it, when I was not, I will 
confess that I sighed very often when I 
looked into m^ own room, and on the 


4 ^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


evening of the boys’ arrival, I heard the 
carriage stop at the door with a feeling of 
dread. As Axy opened it, I ran back for 
one more hug and kiss from papa, and, like 
a rebellious girl, said : 

“ That’s a good-bye to all good times, 
papa.” 

I had only time to see a sad look on papa’s 
face, before Axy called “ Miss Dolly,” and 
I ran out, hearing that sweet, patient man 
say: 

“ Give them a cordial greeting for my 
sake, little woman.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


HOW THE SWARM SETTLED DOWN. 


HE first person I saw was a 
^ small, slender young man who 
said : “ This is Miss Warring- 
ton, I presume,” and I ans- 
wered, laughingly; “Yes, and 
you are Mr. Arnold, I suppose, 
and have brought us a coach-load of cousins. 
Come in, and welcome.” 

On the doorstep was the oddest-looking 
little darky I ever saw in my life. His body 




44 


Six Little Rebels, 


was small, and his face old, but mischief 
was written all over it. 

I had been very anxious to see the “ baby ” 
who was to share my room, and I was grati- 
fied, for Mr. Arnold put him into Aunt 
Axy’s arms fast asleep. 

“ He is very tired,” he said. 

“He is not very strong at any time,” said 
the tallest boy, and then they were shown 
into the library to meet papa. 

“ t)oy, how are you ; should 

have known you for a Gresham, anywhere,” 
said papa, shaking hands with the tall boy 
who had spoken first. “ And this is Edward, 
I presume.” 

“Walter and Charlie Neville,” said Mr. 
Arnold, bringing up the othef boys, as 
unlike as possible for twins. 

“ Glad to see you all, my lads ; you are 
very welcome to our little ‘Woodbox,’ but 
I mean to tell you a secret at once. Your 
cousin Dolly will be very kind to you all 
but she hates boys.” 


How the Swarm Settled Down, 


45 


It was dreadful in papa, and I pretended 
not to hear, for I was busy getting the sleep- 
ing boy in a comfortable position on the 
sofa. Just then, papa espied Alexis, who 



was standing in the doorway, staring about 
the room. 

“ Well, my boy, we expect you to take 
good care of the little fellow over yonder. 

“ Arnold, you must be tired ; go up to your 
room when you please, and remember we do 
not put ceremony before comfort. 

“ Dolly dear, show your cousins their 
rooms. I ha.ve a young housekeeper, Ar- 


46 


Six Little Rebels, 


nold, just now, but she surpasses many old 
ones I have seen.” 

Papa was in such good spirits I could not 
help looking at him, and saying softly to 
myself : 

“ Perhaps this is the very thing he needs.” 

Axy took “ Lex,” as the boys called him, 
to the kitchen, while I went up-stairs with 
Mr. Arnold and the four boys, leaving the 
little fellow still sound asleep on the lounge. 

While they were dressing, or brushing up, 
I ran down to look after the late dinner we 
had prepared, after papa received a telegram 
from Mr. Arnold. My part of it was small 
enough, only the dessert and arranging the 
table, but Aunt Axy always depended on me 
a little, and so did papa. 

In the kitchen I found Lex rubbing his 
face until it shone. 

“ So your name is Lex } ” I said, as he 
stared at me with his great eyes. 

“No, miss, it’s Lexis, most days; they 
calls me Lex, or Bub, though.” 


How the Swarm Settled Down, ^7 


“Well, Lexis, I hope you will be a good 
boy and mind Aunt Axy. She has taken 
care of me ever since I was a baby.” 

“ Yes, miss.” 

“ And Lexis you will wait on the table, 
papa says, for you are young and spry.” 

“ Yes, miss,” 

The little fellow looked so droll as he 
pulled his wool by way of making a bow 
that I could not help laughing, although I 
had all my life seen colored children about 
me. When I went back to the library 
Bertie had just opened his eyes and fastened 
them on papa, who said at once : 

“ Well, laddie, come and shake hands> if 
you like my looks half as well as I like 
yours. I cannot come to you.” 

“Why not.?” asked Bertie, already half 
won by papa’s voice and manner. 

Because I never walk, Bertie. I am 
lame.” 

“ Then I’ll come,” said the little fellow, 


48 


Six Little Rebels. 


and in a moment he was nestled in my 
father’s arms. 

Suddenly, he looked up, and asked : 

“ Are you papa’s dear, dear friend ? ” 

“Yes, laddie, the dearest friend on earth, 
except my daughter, is your own papa.” 

“Well, I am to call you ‘Uncle,’” he 
said, “ and be your boy for a big, long while 
until he comes back.” 

“ That is kind, for I need a good little 
boy, and so does cousin Dolly. You see I 
have to use her feet so much, I am afraid 
she will not be able to use them all she 
wants to for herself.” 

“ Can’t you walk just the leastest, truly 
mite ? ” asked Bertie, looking down at the 
helpless, misshapen feet on the cushion. 

“ No, darling; not one little step.” 

“ Who did it ? ” asked the child. 

“ God, I think, dear.” 

“ And won’t you never walk out on the 
grass with them again 1 ” 

“ Never here, Bertie.” 


How the Swarm Settled Down. 


49 


“ I wonder what made God do it ? I 
don’t think I like him very well ; he took 
mamma away and I can’t see her, and now 
he has hurted your feet and you can never 
walk.” 

“ Until I get to the blessed country where 
crooked things are made straight,” said papa, 
kissing the boy. 

“ That’s Heaven,” said the child with tears 
in his dark eyes, “ papa told me, and I want 
to go there and see mamma ; but I do hope 
God won’t stay there every minute ; I feel so 
afraid of him.” 

“ Bertie, do you feel niy arms tight about 
you ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” 

“ Well, you know I never saw you before, 
but I love you, and I am sorry for you, 
because your dear mamma has gone away, 
and your papa has gone too for a little 
while. Like all little boys, I suppose, you 
are naughty sometimes, and then I shall be 
compelled to correct you, but I shall love 




Six Little Rebels. 


you all the same. Now, we are God’s chil- 
dren ; he holds us tight in his arms. Some- 
times, we are naughty and he punishes us; 
we do not know why, but we do know he 
loves us and it is for our good, although it 
is hard to bear, and all the comfort we have, 
is the thought that do what we will, he never 
takes his arms away.” 

I was leaning over papa’s chair, listening 
to the conversation, and I could not help 
feeling that some of it belonged to me. 

Bertie was silent for a moment, and then 
looked up with a bright, glad smile to say : 

“ Perhaps I’ll like Him better when I 
know Him, but I don’t feel very well 
’quainted now.” 

Papa turned to me with a smile, and said : 

“ Here is your boy, Dolly, and well worth 
all the care you can give him.” 

Axy and I rolled papa’s chair out to the 
dining-room, and gave Bertie a seat at his 
right hand. We had a very pleasant time. 
Mr, Arnold told some queer things about 


How the Swarm Settled Down, 5/ 

their trip ; papa was in fine spirits, and the 
boys were all quiet and gentlemanly. Once, 
Bertie burst out with : 

“Oh, Reggie, Uncle doctor hasn’t any 
foots, and I’m going to run and catch all 
the butterflies for him ! ” 

We all laughed at the idea of catching 
butterflies in January; but papa only patted 
the little fellow’s hand and said : 

“ Certainly he is ; and he will bring in 
the sunshine too.” 

Bertie looked puzzled, but it was plain 
enough to see that the two would be fast 
friends. 

“ Now my dear boys,” said papa, as soon 
as we were all seated in the library, “ I do 
not intend to make you work much for 
several days, but one thing I shall urge, and 
that is, that each of you will keep a diary 
and write in it faithfully every day. If you 
do not care for them now, your parents will 
value them on their return, and beside, we 
are all making history. Dolly, my dear, pass 


52 


Six Little Rebels. 


me the bundle which Gene brought me this 
morning.” 

I did so; and papa opened it and gave 
each of us a pretty blank book, all but 
Bertie, who seemed so grieved about it that 
papa assured him there was a cunning little 
one coming for him in the morning. 

The next morning Mr. Arnold left us 
quite early, before Bertie was awake; and 
the little fello.w cried so hard when he found 
him gone, I could not help taking him in my 
arms and comforting him. He was a pretty 
boy, with dark eyes and light hair, but his 
eyes had that far-away look which I cannot 
help thinking all motherless children have. 

Reggie was about my age, Ned two years 
younger, and Charlie and Walter Neville, 
twins, aged twelve. All the boys were fond 
of little Bertie Gresham, but Reginald, his 
eldest brother, seemed to be the child’s 
favorite. He was mine, too, after the first 
bashfulness wore away. Ned was every- 
body’s boy, jolly, noisy, full of fun and good- 


How the Swarm Settled Down, 

nature. Aunt Axy adopted him at once, 
and he, although the rogue of the party, 
took a wonderful fancy to the black, but 
honest and excellent woman. 

Charlie Neville was the owner of a 
bright red head, and Walter, his twin, was 
crowned with curly brown locks. 

“ They were all intelligent-looking lads,” 
papa said, “ but Bertie was a rare child — 
one of the kind to handle with great care 
and study patiently.” 

I soon learned the truth of papa’s remark, 
and often grew puzzled over some speech 
of the little fellow. 

He clung to me, and followed me about 
so much that I began to feel the care of 
him all my own. I dressed him and un- 
dressed him, heard his little prayers, and 
gave him a drink if he waked in the 
night, and little by little, the love, grew for 
the motherless little fellow, until heedless 
and selfish as I was, nothing was too much 
to do for my Bertie. 


54 


Six Little Rebels. 


The first day the boys rested and un- 
packed ; the second, as it was fine, we drove 
about Washington, Dr. Howard going with 
us. Bertie nestled close to me, and kept 
us all merry with his innocent remarks. 
Charlie’s red head loomed up like a beacon- 
light on the front seat. Reggie sat with the 
doctor and Ned, looking so sober I really 
pitied him. He seemed to feel the family 
sorrow more than Charlie or Walter. 

We did not miss one of the public build- 
ings, and at last, when we came to the 
White House, Bertie remarked: 

“ That it wasn’t a very clean white house, 
and he didn’t like it.” 

“Wouldn’t you like to live there ’’kindly 
asked Dr. Howard, not a little amused by 
his sober face. 

“Well, I ’spose I might if you gived it 
tome; but it isn’t as nice as Uncle doctor’s.” 

“ There, Miss Dolly, now pray do not let 
me hear you complain of the ‘ Woodbox ’ 
again,” said Dr. Howard, laughing. 


How the Swarm Settled Down, 53 


“You musn’t laugh,” said the child, with 
a flush on his little pale face. “ I don’t 
like to be laughed at. I dont like it ; 
papa’s is nicer, and not so big, and I 
might go in there at the big door and get 
lost. If I did, you couldn’t find me for 
ever and ever.” 

“ Bertie has detected one of its faults,” 
said Dr. Howard, “there is nothing homelike 
about the White House.” 

We found papa ready to listen to our 
report when we returned, and it seemed to 
me when I undressed Bertie at night that 
I had known our cousins a long, long tirne, 
and they were very nice for boys. 


CHAPTER V. 


MORE ARRIVALS AT THE “WOODBOX. 



HE first thing changed after - the boys 
came was our dinner hour. Papa 
said it would never do for growing boys to 
wait for our four o’clock dinner. 

They were very much surprised to learn 
that we were all to study at home for the 
present. Thanks to my home training I 
was far in advance of Reggie ; but I soon 
saw he was determined to overtake me. It 
was several days before we settled down to 
work, and decided on our studies, but we 
sO 


More Arrivals at the ''^Woodboxl^ 57 

had ever so much fun over it ; “ finding out 
what we didn’t know” as Ned said, and at 
last it was papa who arranged everything to 
please us. 

I was busy every moment, for Aunt Axy 
was getting old and it required some time to 
prepare desserts for so many, and papa in- 
sisted on a vacation until Miss Lucinda 
came to relieve me of all care. 

Only a few days passed before she arrived 
coming sooner than we expected. The eco« 
nomical soul had only taken an omnibus to 
the nearest point rather than pay “ two prices ” 
for a carriage. 

We had just finished dinner when the 
door bell rang out loud and clear. Lex an- 
swered it , promptly for we had found another 
place for Gene soon after he came, well know- 
ing that two such “ imps of darkness ” as 
Charley said, would be too much in one 
house. When Lex opened the door I heard 
the familiar voice of Miss Lucinda saying to 
him : 


5 ^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Well, you are no great to look upon ” 
and out I went and hugged the kind hearted 
woman who had left all her belongings to 
care for me. 



“ The Lord be praised Miss Dolly I am 
here,” she said, “ but it’s as much as ever and 
the poor General is nearly smothered.” 


More Arrivals at the JVooddoxl^ 


She sat down on one of the hall chairs to 
puff a little. 

Now Miss Lucinda was by no means a 
lank, lean Yankee, but a plump, ruddy-faced, 
motherly looking soul, with no particular 
waist line, and an arm like a blacksmith. She 
had walked on this occasion a good mile, 
part of the way, up a steep hill, with a large 
black valise, a lunch box, and the market 
basket containing her feline warrior. No 
wonder she was “ completely beat out.” 

After removing her bonnet, I turned my 
attention to the gallant General. Surely no 
cat could behave better. 

To be sure, his basket was roomy, and his 
mistress devoted ; but for a gentleman cat, 
of good old family, it was rather hard. For 
years he had been accustomed to long strolls 
on the beach, to evening receptions, and con- 
certs, to calls upon Josiah, and others of his 
craft, who furnished free lunches of fresh fish; 
and now it is all ended. 

I opened his prison door and set him free 


6o 


Six Little Rebels. 


For one moment he looked bewildered but 
hearing Miss Lucinda request him ‘‘To be- 
have himself, and shake hands like a sensi- 
ble fellow,” he sat down and demurely held 
up one paw like a dog. 

Bertie was delighted, and although cau- 
tioned about his claws at once began to 
fondle him. The little fellow was nearly 
wild over this new pet, kissing his head, 
smoothing his handsome fur, and admiring 
his eyes. The General was a superior creat- 
ure of his kind, as large as a small dog, and 
of the soft velvety color known as Maltese. 

As soon as Miss Lucinda — for papa in- 
sisted on our calling her Miss now ; she would 
not be called Miss Dodge — as soon as she 
could breath freely, we gathered in papa’s 
study. I had been a little afraid that her 
oddities might provoke the boys to laughter, 
but papa had arranged all that by telling 
them of her real worth. I heard Aunt Axy 
telling Lex that “ he’d better stop his foolin’ 


More Arrivals at the "'Woodboxr 6i 


now, for de ble lady had eyes before and be- 
hind.” 

Lex must have been an awful trial in 
those days, his woolly head was full of .mis- 
chief, and very often I had to pause out-side 
the kitchen door which opened at the end of 
the hall, before I could suppress my laughter, 
while Aunt Axy was giving him what she 
called “ a good rakin’ down.” 

“You good for nothin’ pesky limb why 
don’t ye b’have decent ? ” she would say, and 
then Lex would give a “ te, he, he,” and a 
“ ha ha ha,” and an “ O my eyes, but you is a 
beauty.” Aunt Axy was very proud of her 
personal appearance, her turbans were gay- 
oolored, and neatly tied, and her long white 
aprons were so tidy I used to wonder how 
she did so much dirty work, and never soiled 
them. Once, Lex waited until she passed 
the door on her way to church and then 
sprinkled flour all over her best black gown ; 
on another occasion, he showered her with 
ducks’ feathers just as she had finished scrub- 


62 


Six Little Rebels. 


bing her kitchen floor, and it was wet enough 
to make them stick. 

These pranks were all kept from papa, at 
the good soul’s request, and Miss Lucinda 
was such a terror to the little rascal he al- 
ways behaved well in her presence. We 
were very happy after she came ; I had 
plenty of time for my studies, and all of us 
went for long walks, for winter walks about 
Georgetown, and Washington, are as pleas- 
ant as summer ones in other places. Papa 
seemed almost gay when we came home, 
each with a little budget of news, but Miss 
Lucinda always looked us over as we came 
trooping in, with a dread of more mending. 
Walter generally gave her something to do, 
for he was one of those unfortunate boys 
who are sure to tumble down or meet with 
some sort of an accident. 

The best thing about the dear old soul 
was, that she never was cross, and if she 
looked a little sober over a tear in Walter’s 
coat, Reggie was sure to make her laugh 


More Arrivals at the ''"‘Woodbox^ 6j 

with a story of how, when, and where, it was 
made. Her laugh was a queer one “ a real 
Yankee pucker,” Walter said; she would 
lower her double chin, draw down the cor- 
ners of her mouth, and wink her eyes rap- 
idly, but no audible sound ever escaped her. 

A kind of Puritan grimness hung about 
her, and she seemed to be always battling 
with some spirit of fun, which she was deter- 
mined to conquer. 

Gen. Scott evidently understood her, and 
their devotion was amusing. The boys 
called him her “ lover,” and if he were not in 
his usual place at her feet they would ask, 
“ where her lover had gone ? ” 

This bit of teasing amused her, for she 
always answered merrily: 

“ Oh, he’s out for a walk:” 

We had one scene with this four-footed 
lover which Lex at least will remember. 

It was our custom to have family prayers in 
the breakfast room, and all the family gath- 
ered about as soon as the servants removed the 


64 


Six Little Rebels, 


dishes. After the boys came I retained my 
old place close by papa, and gave Bertie a 
seat at my side ; Lex, who was inclined to 
trouble the child when he had nothing else 
to do, was given a low seat near the door, 
next to Miss Lucinda. 

About two weeks after the arrival of Gen. 
Scott and his mistress, while we were all 
kneeling, except papa, whose eyes were 
closed, Lex determined to torment the 
General who always attended to his devo* 
tional exercises, while curled up on the folds 
of Miss Lucinda’s gown. 

Either the General was very sleepy, or 
very devout, for Lex found no difficulty in 
tying a stout cord on one of his hind legs, 
while he fastened the other end to the knob 
of the half open door which rested against 
his chair. 

Miss Lucinda was perhaps even then pray- 
ing for “ the young limb.” And his move- 
ments did not startle her. When we rose as 
usual the General rose too, but did not leave 


More Arrivals at the “ Woodboxl' 6^ 

his mistress’ side until later. Lex ran out in 
great haste causing papa to say : 

“ Lex is in a hurry this morning Aunt 
Axy.” 

“ For de fust time massa doctor, dat boy 
nebber kill hisself, hurryin’, nebber. 

The words had scarcely left her lips be- 
fore she went out closing the door after her. 

Then there was a scene. 

The General spit, scratched, and made a 
most pitiful howl, or growl, as he was 
dragged suddenly across the floor. Miss 
Lucinda, who never could see anything small 
without her glasses, concluded that her dear 
fellow had a fit, and no one dared approach 
the furious animal. Reggie was the first to 
discover the cord, and in a twinkling he 
pulled out his pocket knife and liberated the 
hero of an inglorious battle. Walter threw 
open the door, the General tore out mad 
with rage, and Miss Lucinda turned to my 
father speechless with indignation. Bertie 
began to whimper, thinking his new friend 


66 


Six Little Rebels, 


was hurt, and the boys laughed merrily, 
until papa said quietly : 

“ Reginald, please bring Alexis to me.” 

But Lex was not to be found, he did not 
appear at dinner; and it was dark before 
he stole into the kitchen, and I heard Aunt 
Axy giving him a lecture. 

“ Now, Lexis, I’se a good mind to tote 
you in there to massa. I is indeed ; he 
wants you mighty bad, and it seems to me 
chile, dat de debbil just got you in his^ 
clutches.” 

“ I won’t do it agin’, marmy, I won’t ; you 
jess let me go long off to bed, an’ I’ll get 
you mighty heap o’ kindlin’; deed I will. 
You see marmy, I hasn’t no mother nor 
nothin’, and how is I goin’ to know how to 
be good.” 

This stroke of policy saved Lex. Every 
motherless child was sacred in her eyes, for 
my sake, and the young rascal knew her 
weak side, so he whimpered and whined 


More Arrivals at the “ Woodboxr 6y 

until she gave him a good supper, and let 
him slip off to bed. 

While I sat rocking Bertie for a kind of 
“ comfort nap ” before I put him in bed, I 
heard Aunt Axy say in a muffled whisper: 

“ Now, Lexis, if you ever goes for to do 
such a wicked thing agin’ when the massa 
is a habbin’ prayers, de old fellow wid’ de 
hoofs and long tail jis carry you off skure I ” 

The reckoning came next morning. Reg- 
gie and papa had the boy locked up with 
them for an hour, and when he came out 
sniffling and showing the whites of his eyes, 
we all concluded it would be a long time 
before Lex would tease the General again. 
But you see we did not understand the 
amount of mischief in that queer, woolly 
head. 


CHAPTER VI. 


NEWS FROM EUROPE. 



E did not hear from the travellers 
very often, but when we did, there 
was general rejoicing, for every one in the 
family was remembered. 

Walter was the only one of the boys who 
disliked study. He had a mania for tools 
of all sorts, and was very fond of covering 
whole sheets of paper with plans of engines, 
patent gates, hinges and bits of machinery 

without any name whatever, which the other 
68 


News from Europe. 6g 

boys usudly made fun of, and called “ Wal- 
ly’s flying-machines.” 

“ I don’t think you care much for books 
Walter,” I said one day, when I had tried 
for half an hour to explain a problem to him. 

“ Fact, cousin Dolly, I don’t ; sometimes 
I hate everything inside of two covers.’^ 



“Except apple-pie,” said Charlie, with a 
laugh. 

Papa was very patient with him, and al- 
ways said : 

“ Stick to the books now, my boy, because 
I want you to, and presently you will find 
the kind you want, and stick to them be- 
cause you want to.” 

One day when Walter had been very 


70 


Six Little Rebels^ 


stupid and a little sulky over a lesson in 
history, Reggie and Charlie were so vexed 
with him, they begged papa not to trouble 
himself any more, but send him to a school 
where he must study or be flogged. 

“No, no;” said papa, “if one way of 
getting a thing does not agree with every 
one, we must find a new way. Walter will 
come out right ; there is a niche waiting 
for him somewhere.” 

After that, every day papa gave Walter 
instead of a regular history lesson, some- 
thing to search for, and such questions as : 

“ Who were the first people that used 
scythes, and how were the scythes made ” 
“ When did machinery first take the place 
of hand labor, in manufacturing cloth } ” 

“ When were melted lead and stones 
dropped on the heads of an attacking 
party ? ” 

These, and many more of far more im- 
portance, interested the boy, and in reading 
up for replies he became at last quite a 


News from Europe, yi 

good historian, without thinking of the dis- 
agreeable “ humbug of dates.” 

“ You see,” said papa, smiling, when Wal- 
ter carried him a drawing of some old ma- 
chinery — “you see, my boy, what a mine of 
hidden treasures we find ‘ inside of two 
covers.’ I think father and mother will be 
proud of you yet, Wally.” 

Poor boy, — before a week passed he 
thought of papa’s words, for a letter came 
from Gol. Gresham telling us that Judge 
Neville had been attacked for a second 
time with paralysis and died almost imme- 
diately, and the sudden blow, with all the 
exhaustion and previous care, had prostrated 
Mrs. Neville. She was without doubt, in- 
sane, but only from grief ; he was quite sure 
it would soon pass away. 

“ Of course,” he wrote, “ I cannot leave 
her; we have laid my poor brother’s remains 
in a lovely spot, which I will have photo- 
graphed for the boys, before I return. 

“ The enclosed letter for ^our daushter 


72 


Six Little Rebels, 


I found lying on Allie’s desk, and although 
not finished, I send it, for she expresses her 
gratitude and regard far better than I can 
possibly do.” 

I read it with my eyes filled with tears. 
At the close, she said : 

“ You can never know, dear girl, at least 
I hope you never will, what this separation 
costs my brother and myself, especially with 
such a state of affairs at home. I went into 
Charlie s room on Sunday evening, and there 
I found him with our boys’ pictures spread 
out on the table before him. ‘ Well, Allie,’ 
he said, trying to smile, ‘ I think I would 
willingly give half of all I own, to see the 
five dear rogues to-night for one hour.’ 
Then we studied them all — Reggie’s dear 
wise face, always a trifle sober ; Charlie’s 
laughing, roguish eye ; Walter’s scowl and 
firm mouth ; Ned’s mischievous, dimpled 
phiz, and the dear baby’s dreamy, sad, sweet 
countenance. 


News from Europe. 


13 


“ Our precious boys ; how blessed we are 
in finding such a home for them, and such 
loving, thoughtful care ! Those little printed 
letters of Bertie’s are actually kissed and 
folded away next my brother’s heart. 

“ We find many here who think the South 
right and the North much to blame. I 
cannot decide, nor am I called upon to, 
but my brother is strong in his belief that 
‘ Union means more than sections.’ There 
is madness, and wrong-doing on both sides, 
how will it all end 

“ Keep our darlings with you as much as 
you can, dear Dolly, but do not let them 
weary or worry you now in your fresh, 
young girlhood. Boys are always thought- 
less, but generally kind-hearted.” 

Then followed some suggestions and more 
thanks. 

It was very hard for the Neville boys to 
realize that they ' should never again see 
their devoted father, and Ned and Reggie 


74 


Six Little Rebels, 


were in deep grief over his loss. Papa was 
very kind to them, and tried in every way 
to bid them hope for their mother. 

In a few weeks the news of Sumter came 
like a bomb-shell to our little family, and all 
the confusion and misery seemed centred 
about Washington. Rumors of all sorts 
floated about ; the story which was an- 
nounced at breakfast as a fact, was contra- 
dicted before dinner as utterly false. 

For one week papa had a hard time with 
his pupils. It was almost impossible to 
study. The streets were filled with men 
talking in excited tones, and soldiers seemed 
everywhere present. 

As the days and weeks went on, matters 
grew worse and worse. Old friends became 
bitter enemies, and “ Union” and “ Secesh,” 
were common words. Wives separated from 
husbands, and brothers and sisters did not 
speak. Even in church the bitterness dis- 
played itself. 

Little by little we became accustomed to 


News from Europe. 


75 


the taunts and sneers of our old neighbors. 
The boys had decided opinions of their own, 
as. well as their elders. 

Charlie declared that “ they had no right 
to meddle with the South ; if she wanted to 
live by herself, why not ? ” 

Walter “ did not see why people should 
be killed because a few others wanted their 
own way.” 

Reggie thought “ my country far grander 
than my state.” 

Ned wished he could get home and secure 
some of his treasures,” and one and all 
were anxious except the war-like Alexis. 

Papa, a Union man to his heart’s core, 
kept us at our best, and gave us good advice 
about guarding our lips. It was almost 
impossible to tell whether those about you 
were friends or foes. 

Mr. Thorpe, our old rector, left suddenly 
and went South where he became chaplain of 
a regiment. Harry, his son, enlisted in one 
of our own regiments and took his mother’s 


76 


Six Little Rebels, 


blessing with him. I never felt worse than 
when Harry left; he had been my music- 
teacher ever since I could stretch an octave, 
and many happy hours we had in our old 
church, he playing the organ as few could 
play, after I had thumped out a lesson. 

Mrs. Thorpe could not stay in her once 
happy home alone, and she too left to visit 
friends in Connecticut. Her house was 
taken by a surgeon. Dr. Miller, who was 
ordered on special duty for the government. 
His wife was a charming woman, and the 
only son Dick, a boy about Reggie’s age, 
soon became a great favorite at our house. 
He was a wide-awake, fun-loving specimen of 
Young America — the true Young America 
— not the coarse, noisy, rude, swagger- 
ing type, which some people call by that 
name. His father was considered a superior 
surgeon, and he and papa became warm 
friends. 

As for Dick, he was in and out at our 
house like the other boys, and papa often. 


News from Europe, 


77 


said he believed our lads knew quite as 
much about the movements of the army, 
and the latest “ orders,” as most of the army 
officers. 

Lex grew valiant, and was often heard 
giving Aunt Axy a description of wonder- 
ful things he had seen on his way to market 
or back. The show and parade pleased him, 
and many times poor “ Aunty ” was com- 
pelled to wait for some needed article from 
the store, because Lex had paused by the 
way to see “ some drefful pretty sojers, but 
I done tell ye marmy, we has better ones 
down Souf.” 

One member of our household suffered 
deeply from this excitement, and that was 
little Bertie. He had never been quite 
strong, and as the spring advanced his appe- 
tite grew less and less, until it became a reg- 
ular question in the family : 

“ What can we get new for Bertie ? ” 

Every day we hoped he would be better 
to-morrow, but the little fellow grew worse, 
and finally ill. 


CHAPTER VII. 



MISS LUCINDA TO THE RESCUE. 

^ LEASE sing again, Cousin Dolly; it 
takes the ache away,” said Bertie, as 
the study clock struck one, and all was^till 
in the house. 

“ Where is the ache, dear ? ” 

“ In my head now, but it is better when 
you sing.” 

I had only time to sing “ Little Travellers 
Zionward,” which was one of his favorites, 

about half through, when I felt a hand ion 

78. 


Afzss Lucinda to the Rescue, 


79 


my shoulder. The room was dimly lighted, 
and I turned quickly to see Reggie. 

“ Give him to me please,” he said, “ this 
will never do ; you have not slept at all as 
you promised. Darling, will you come to 
brother cousin Dolly will be sick, too.” 

“ Yes, take me quick, Reggie, and please 
don’t let my head keep slipping down way 
Ned does. Cousin Dolly holds me like 
Auntie Neville; will it hurt her to hold 
my hand when it aches very hard 1 ” 

“ No, pet,” I answered, “ Dolly will hold 
it.” 

“Where is the pain, little brother? ” asked 
Reggie, trying very hard, I knew by the 
sound of his voice, to hide his feelings. 

“ Most times it is my head, but my legs 
are pretty achy, too. Do the soldiers’ legs 
ache when they are cut off, Reggie ? ” 

Poor little fellow, the misery and agony 
of war never .left him ; he was in the very 
midst of it. 

“ They ache very hard, I suppose, dear.” 


8o 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ But they never cry, do they ? Lex took 
me close up to the window when they were 
sick one day, and they didn’t cry they just 
made a noise so ” 

The child groaned, and we both knew he 
was trying to be brave and bear his pain 
like a soldier. I put cool napkins on his 
burning head, and held his hand, while Reg- 
gie rocked him gently. By and by he fell 
asleep, but moaned constantly. 

“ Oh ! Reggie,” said I, “ we must get him 
away from here. I cannot bear it any 
longer; this dreadful war will madden us all 
yet. Do let us find some cool, quiet place 
and insist on papa’s going; he will if Dn 
Miller and Dr. Howard ask him to.” 

I was crying like a great baby then, for 
the moans of the little sufferer cut me like 
a knife. 

“ I know -so little of the North,” said 
Reggie, sadly, “ it is a land of strangers to 
us you know, but I will go anywhere, do 


Miss Lucinda to the Rescue, 8i 

anything which the doctor advises. You 
must stay here with your father.” 

“ But Reggie, he could not do without 
me, the child has clung to me from the 
first, and I could not do without him.” 

“ I won’t trouble her,” said Bertie, rousing 
up, and staring about in a frightened way. 
“ Let me stay with cousin Dolly ; don’t send 
me away ; don’t ! don’t ! ” 

“ Bertie, my little darling, you are not 
going from me. See, I am holding your 
hand, and I will never leave you until you 
are our merry little boy again.” 

The child sank back exhausted, while 
Reggie and I asked, with our eyes, “ What 
shall we do ? ” 

“ Children,” said a voice in the doorway, 
“ may I come in ” 

“ Yes, please,” I answered, and in came 
Miss Lucinda, with a shawl over her long 
night-dress. 

“ Dolly,” said she slowly, as she bent over 
and touched the burning cheeks, ‘4t is rather 


82 


Six Little Rebels, 


early in life for you two to be having sick- 
ness and trouble, and IVe been thinking — ” 
“ Oh, Miss Lucinda,” I said, “ trouble came 
to Reggie and I long ago ; I feel as if I 
had lived a hundred years now.” 

Miss Lucinda only coughed, and went on : 
“ I’ve been thinking of my cottage down 
there at the Farms, it is all shut up, and of 
no earthly use; it is a small cage, so to 
speak, and only good natured birds could 
live in it. Now if you was a mind to liv^ a 
little less genteel, and have a bed in the par- 
lor for your pa, Reggie could sleep on my 
sofa bedstead, you could have the front 
chamber with the baby, and the boys and I 
could scatter round, there is room enough 
such as it is, and we could swing Josiah’s 
hammock in the shed if need be. It never 
was built for fashionable folks but the sea 
air is just as reviving as if it was.” 

“ Oh, Aunt Lucinda” I said, giving her a good 
hug,“ you are a fairy god-mother, nothing could 
be better, only think of it Reggie, giving up 


Miss Lucinda to the Rescue. 8j 

her precious nest, with all her little treasures 
to such a crowd of people ! Aunt Lucinda, 
you’re a saint, a jewel, a blessing ! ” 

“ I am afraid the Lord of all wouldn’t 
agree with you,” said the good soul, winking 
very fast, “ but it doesn’t need the eyes of a 
saint to see that our little boy is pining and 
as to the doctor, this heat and flurry is too 
much for him, he has only taken one cup of 
coffee for a fortnight.” 

In a moment my heart was filled with 
dread. 

“ He sleeps well,” I said ; “ I ran down for 
some aconite for Bertie about an hour ago, 
and he did not waken. Now you speak of 
it, he has not seemed quite so strong. Oh, 
Aunt Lucinda, let us get away as soon as 
we can.” 

“The sooner the better,” said she; “one 
day is as good as forty for packing up.” 

“ But the house will not be aired,” I said, 
remembering papa’s caution about such 
things. 


84 


Six Little Rebels. 


“As to that,” said the faithful, unselfish, 
blessed old maid, “ I took that all into rx- 
count last week, and it’s all settled as soon as 
your pa says go. You see, I saw how things 
were going, so I wrote to Josiah, and he 
wrote back he could go right to work, and 
put up a little room for cooking, and make 
a dining-room of my kitchen, and a parlor of 
the sitting-room, and there we are all right. 
He has some hammocks ready for the boys 
if they want them, and by the time we could 
get there he will have a good clean boat 
fitted up. Such as it is, it is yours, and wel- 
come. I only got Josiah’s letter this after- 
noon, and I designed laying it before your 
father in the morning.” 

“ What rent can we pay ? ” asked practical 
Reggie. 

“ That is for the doctor to decide,” said 
she, briefly. 

“ I do think Aunt Lucinda that you are 
the best woman living,” I said eagerly. 


Miss Lucinda to the Rescue, 8^ 

“Why Reggie, it is very" fashionable down 
there now, and only last summer she refused 
a fancy price for this very cottage ; but she 
would not let it, for it was full of things 
her father and brother brought from sea.” 

“ Folks make foolish remarks sometimes. 
Miss Dolly, and I hope I’m not quite a 
heathen if I am nothing but a Yankee old 
maid. The truth is, I am kind of hankering 
for the salt water myself; and the General 
will be only too glad to go down to Josiah s 
fishing boat. 

“ And now my advice is, to put that sick 
child on the bed, and have Miss Dolly lie 
down ’long side of him, and hold his hand if 
need be.” 

Bertie had grown quiet while we were 
talking, so Reggie and I took her advice. 
The child roused a little as we put him 
down and called “ Dolly ; ” my “ yes dear,” 
seemed to comfort him and he dozed again. 
Reggie went back to his room begging me 


86 


Six Little Rebels, 


to call him if Bertie was restless again, but 
the aconite had its effect, and I too slept a 
little without undressing. 

The next morning as soon as I heard 
Aunt Axy about, I crept softly away from 
the little fellow and ran down to papa, there 
I curled up on the bed and told him about 
Miss Lucinda’s proposal. He was very still 
for a few moments, and then when I asked 
impatiently If he didn’t think it perfectly 
glorious,” he said quietly : 

“ It does look like an open door to us 
Dolly, but you didn’t think of the bother 
your cripple would be.” 

Dear heart, he was always so afraid of 
making trouble. Then I cuddled my head 
down close to his, and^we talked and talked, 
until it was time for me to help him dress. 

Bertie was very quiet all day, and the boys 
took turns staying with him while Reggie, 
Miss Lucinda and I, packed up ; we decided 
not to tell the dear sick one until we were 
nearly ready. 


Afzss Lucinda to the Rescue. 8'^ 


Dr. Miller came in about noon and gave 
him a tonic, but said over and over again how 
delighted he was to have us go. Dick bus- 
tled in soon after, exclaiming : 

“ I say now, what is all this about the 
Beach? who dares to run off without my per- 
mission ? ” 

“ Six little Rebels ” said Ned, who was put- 
ting the school-books into a wooden box, “ that 
is the name the ragamuffins gave us yester- 
day when we went out for our walk.” 

“Where do you get six?” asked Dick, 
laughing# 

“ Oh they count Lex,” said Ned, “ and the 
truth is, he started it, for Charlie and I found 
out last night that the young rascal had been 
giving a free lecture down at the corner store, 
with a fish barrel for a platform.” 

“ Yes, and Mr. Harrison told us he had a 
great deal to say about ‘his young gemen 
who were all good southeners and ’spised 
Yankee doings,’ ” said Charlie. 


88 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Whew ! What did Reg, and the doctor 
say to that?” 

“ Oh, we didn’t tell the doctor, but Reg 
was awfully provoked and gave the cub a 
good scare.” 

Dick laughed merrily. 

“ The truth is, said Ned, that Lex is a 
spoiled boy, he used to make speeches for us 
at home, on all kinds of questions, but we 
never dreamed of his attempting it up here. 
Toss us that Caesar will you Dick? ” 

A short time after, Dick came to my assist- 
ance. I was busy putting Bertie’s clothes in 
the large tray of my trunk, and had quite 
forgotten that summer dresses would take up 
all the room. 

“ Dick always sees the loose screw,” Walter 
says, for everything is machinery with him, 
and I think Wally is right about it. 

“ I told Dick once, he owed his cleverness to 
his mother; the few boys I have seen who have 
been much with their mothers, always seem 
to think of all the little things^ and it is just 


Miss Lucinda to the Rescue, 8g 


these little things which make the big ones 
work well ; papa said that once, and I remem- 
bered it.” 

“ Now Dolly,” said Dick getting down on 
the floor by my side, “ will you permit ‘ yours 
truly ’ to suggest ? ” 

“ Of course I will, but what do boys know 
about packing trunks } ” 

“ Heaps, Miss Warrington, heaps, espec- 
ially when boys have been away to school, 
and do that sort of thing semi-annually.” 

“ Well Dick, proceed.” 

“ In the first place you will take a hand 
bag?” 

“ Yea, verily.” 

“ Well then, put into it now, such traps as 
you will require on the way, sleeping uniform, 
and all that sort* of thing.” 

“Yes, well, that is already done.” 

“ Then put the things you will want first, 
on the very top of your trunk.” 

“ It shall be done, oh, wise king.” 

“ Don’t be saucy now, or I’ll leave.” 


go 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Well, now, let me see how the bottom is 
packed.” 



“Why there is nothing in there yet. I left 
it until the last,” I said. 

“ I dare say, just like a girl, beg pardon, a 
young lady, who has never travelled.” 


Afiss Lucinda to the Rescue. gr 

Such a time as we had packing that trunk : 
I had to leave several times to care for Ber- 
tie, and every time I came back there was 
Dick on his knees, with his coat off, shoving 
things into corners, and actually making room 
when I thought it was full. All the time he 
worked he kept up such ridiculous nonsense, 
and made so much fun of the things I 
thought “ really necessary,” that I left several 
out entirely, and was thankful that the “ up- 
per deck ” as he called the top of the trunk 
was packed full of all a girl’s “ frills ” and 
“furbelows,” before he came in, and that I 
would not let him touch. My wprk-bqx and 
writing-desk took up so much room he de- 
clared I would have to charter a speciak car 
for the rest, but all went in finally, and it was 
real good in Dick to help me, for my shoul- 
ders ached from holding Bertie. 

After he had packed my “traps” as he 
called them “ snug and ship shape,” he went 
down-stairs for a bit of fun with papa. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

FLITTING. 

^LY two day? after, all 
was ready and we were up 
bright and early at the 
“Woodbox.” Dr. How- 
ard had been in and 
heartily approved of our 
plans. Before Aunt Axy 
her kitchen fire, Mrs. Mill- 
er’s cook came over with some delicious 
rolls, and some fruit for our breakfast. 

“Jiss like her,” said Aunt Axy, “she’s a 

92 



had time to make 


Flitting, 


93 


born lady, yer white trash nebber thinks of 
dese yere doings, say we don’t want to make 
fire if we’s be shuttin’ up de house, an de 
cook will fin’ ’nough to do, does ye mind 
that Miss Dolly? Ole culled folks some 
count long dese yere New York ladies.” 

Before I could finish with papa, Dick 
came in with a platter of hot steak, and the 
doctor’s boy followed with a pot of steaming 
chocolate. 

“ Hurry up doctor, bustle round Dolly, 
here’s a pot of my mother’s best French 
chocolate, take it in liberal quantities, early 
in the morning.” 

“ Bless that boy,” said my father, as I gave 
the last touch to his hair, “he brings good 
cheer in his voice without anything in his 
hands.” 

“ Dick, your mother is too good for any- 
thing,” I said, school girl fashion, after Miss 
Lucinda had relieved him of his burden. 

“ Is she ? Really, you are complimentary, 
but I’ve always had a suspicion she was 


Six Little Rebels. 


94 

good enough to be my mother,” and then 
the saucy fellow strutted about a little with 
his thumbs in his vest. 

“ Bertie wants you,” called Ned over the 
stair-way. 

“ Does he } excuse me then fair maid, I 
have a higher call,” and away he went up to 
my pet. 

Bertie was very fond of him, and his sensi- 
tive little heart seemed to dread any more 
partings ; he was lying on my bed, all ready 
for our early start, and in his pretty blue 
wrapper he looked like a picture, rather than 
a poor sick baby. The contrast between his 
hair and eyes was quite uncommon, and his 
suffering had made him prettier than ever. 
Reggie had been with him while I was busy, 
but Reggie was more quiet than ever of late ; 
the family sorrows were always with him, 
and it was very hard for him to cheer up the 
little fellow, when as Ned said, he “was al- 
ways looking in a grave-yard.” 

“ Oh Dick, do go too,” said Bertie, as he 


Flitting, 


95 


entered the room. Reggie would have said, 
“ poor child,” and brought a flood of tears, 
but Dick’s hearty: 

“ Well now, I call that rough, Bertie, no 
one has asked me before, no one wants 
me but you, and see here, between you 
and I and Aunt Axy’s meeting bonnet 
I mean to come down there sometime, just 
to punish them.” 

“ Will you } Oh Dick, that will be so 
nice, there will be room in the boat for you, 
I know.” 

Reggie had been telling him that morn- 
ing about the boat Josiah had made ready. 

“ See here Reg,” said Dick, “ suppose you 
go down and surround a roll or two, while I 
tell this little chap a story ; the bell rang you 
know.” 

Reggie hesitated, but seeing Bertie’s eag- 
erness for the story, he went down. 

“ Now ship-mate come to my arms,” said 
Dick, picking up the little fellow as tenderly 


Six Little Rebels. 


9 ^ 

as a woman. “ There now, all right ? Well, 
here goes for a story.” 

What the story was no one knew but 
Bertie and Dick, but when I went up from 
breakfast to give my boy his beef tea, he was 
resting quietly in Dick’s arms, and looking 
up in his face with admiration staring out of 
those large dark eyes. 

Oh Dolly, I do love Dick so, can’t you 
take him with us ? ” 

“ Hush, hush, little ship-mate, not a word 
of that, or I won’t come down and make that 
visit.” 

“We will run up the American flag when 
he comes, and all the flock will go out to 
meet him,” I said, still determined to keep 
Bertie from breaking down. 

At last all was ready; Dr. Miller and Dr. 
Howard took care of papa, Bertie and I, 
while the boys and Miss Lucinda came in 
another coach. 

The“Woodbox” was locked up, and the 


Flitting, 


97 


key left with the Millers. Gen. Scott was in 
his old travelling carriage, and Charlie took 
charge of him, but the funniest of all funny 
things was that I never thought of Aunt 
Axy’s way of getting to the depot. I left 
her putting some more crackers into the 
lunch basket, and in the confusion I did not 
notice where she was. Lex was perched on 
the box with our driver, he was safe, that was 
a comfort, for generally he was out of hearing 
when wanted. 

As soon as we reached the station I missed 
my old nurse and went at once to Reg with 
my trouble. 

“ Reggie Gresham, do you know we have 
left Aunt Axy behind } ” 

“ Is that so } Why the old lady will miss 
the train, what shall I do, take a carriage 
and drive back "I ” 

Papa was chatting away with Dr. Miller, 
and giving some charges about Eugene, who 
was to remain in the doctor’s service. Mrs. 


Six Little Rebels, 


98 

Miller had Bertie in her lap ; Dr. Howard 
was saying pleasant things to the four boys, 
and I, well, — I was in a fidget. 

“ Do tell me what to do, Dr. Howard, 
Aunt Axy is left! ” I said nervously. 

“In excellent hands I see,” said the doctor, 
pointing toward the street, and there was 
Dick Miller perched up in his father’s buggy 
with Aunt Axy by his side. Dick was lean- 
ing forward pretending to drive like some of 
the jockeys he had seen, and Aunt Axy was 
laughing at him. 

The old lady held a huge lunch basket 
in her lap, and would hardly give it up when 
Dick sprang out and offered her his hand 
with as much politeness as if she were a 
duchess. 

“ I quite envy you that boy, Mrs. Miller,” 
said Doctor Howard as the odd pair came 
near our group. 

“ Don’t, I beseech you,” she said with a 
merry laugh ; “ I couldn’t keep house with- 
out my tease.” 


Flitting, 


99 


Dick called a colored boy to hold his horse 
and soon joined us in the station. 



“ Mother,” said he, “ your occupation is be- 
coming, go on in well doing.” 

“ Miss Dolly thank me for picking up the 


LOFC. 


100 


Six Little Rebels. 


fragments; such trifles as old faithful nurses 
are sometimes of value.” 

“ Don’t mind him Dolly dear,” said Mrs. 
Miller; “he can’t live without teasing some- 
body,” but I did mind, for all the sickness, 
worry and hurry had made me tired and ner- 
vous, so Dick’s little speech made the tears 
come. I was determined he should not see 
it, so I went up to Aunt Axy, and asked her 
about papa’s medicine, and pretended not to 
care. 

Dick went right on joking and laughing 
with everybody until innocent little Bertie 
remarked to Mrs. Miller, that “ Dick was 
most as funny as the monkey at the menag- 
erie.” Even Reggie laughed then, but Dick 
rallied, and going up to the little fellow said : 

“ Yes, yes, master Bertie, and when I come 
down to the beach, I will show you the tricks 
that can win.” 

By some special arrangement which the 
doctors had made, papa’s chair was carried in- 
to the cars ; and after we were all seated, we 


Flitting, 


loi 


were a comfortable looking party. Dr. Miller 
had business in New York, and that was a 
comfort to papa, as he made all necessary 
plans for the rest of the trip. 

Mrs. Miller kissed me and called me “ a 
dear, brave girl,” and Dr. Howard said “ re- 
member Dolly, I come next to papa, write 
me long letters little woman, and bring back 
a bright red rose just here, and here” — then 
he kissed me on each cheek and whispered 
something to papa. Dick said good-bye to 
everyone before he came to me, and then he 
leaned over the seat, and said : 

“ I say Dolly, learn to row will you } I 
think you can do it pretty well for agirlyow 
know; don’t pout, it hides your dimples; 
and Dolly, take good care of Reg, he is 
moping about something,” and then they 
were gone. I did want to put my head 
down and have a good cry, but there sat Dr. 
Miller looking straight at me, and every now 
and then papa looked so distressed I con- 
cluded that a girl with five boys and a sick 


102 


Six Little Rebels, 


man to think of, hadn’t a minute to waste in 
tears. 

Papa stood the journey much better than 
we expected. Bertie was quite exhausted, 
but we arrived in Boston in good order and 
went to the Parker House where some old 
friends of papa’s called and insisted on his 
remaining for a day at least. The boys 
spent the time in looking about the city, but 
Bertie seemed so homesick and miserable, I 
would not leave him. 

Miss Lucinda would not pause by the way, 
so she went on to the little cottage, taking 
Lex with her, leaving Aunt Axy to wait 
upon us. 

I think papa enjoyed every moment of his 
stay in Boston, for several of his old class- 
mates rallied about him and showed him 
every attention, but it was dreary for me 
staying in a room in a strange house with a 
sick child, and Aunt Axy for company. 
Just before dark papa called me and said he 
had a treat in store. His good friend Dr. , 


Flitting. 


of Cambridge had been in with tickets for 
our whole party to see Warren at the Mu- 
seum, and another friend was coming to 
keep papa company while we were gone. 

“ But I can’t leave Bertie,” I said, sorrow- 
fully. 

“Certainly you can; he will sleep well 
after his journey. Axy shall sit by his bed- 
side and even if he wakens, he is always con- 
tent to nestle in my arms.” 

“ But papa, I don’t know your friend the 
doctor, you know he is a famous man, and I 
feel just a little afraid of him, and should be 
sure to say the wrong thing.” 

“ Don’t think of yourself little daughter, 
my friend is a very kind man, or he would 
not have thought of taking a troop of young- 
sters out for an evening, and these boys of 
ours need the change, to say nothing of my 
little woman who is getting nervous and 
fanciful.” 

So we went with the great doctor, and. 
after all I wasn’t one bit afraid of him. He 


104 


Six Little Rebels, 


had such a nice, quiet way of saying things, 
and told us so many little stories about 
Boston and Boston people that I was almost 
sorry to hear the music — for the first time in 
my life too — for music always rests me, and 
“ tones me up ” as papa says. 

I had often heard people speak of Mr. 
Warren as very funny, but he was the very 
drollest of all droll men, that night. Reg 
had to speak to Walter several times for 
laughing too loud, but the doctor told him to 
“ let him enjoy it in his own way.” 

When we went back to the hotel, papa 
and two gentlemen were telling over their 
college scrapes, and the doctor joined them. 
I think he must have been nearly as funny as 
Mr. Warren, for Reggie who waited up to 
help papa, said he never laughed so much in 
his life before, and papa laughed all the time 
he was undressing, over the queer stories his 
friend had told. The boys call him “The 
Jolly Doctor;'’ Reggie said he told papa we 


Flitting, 


105 


were “ as orderly and polite a party of rebels 
as ever marched into Boston.” 

When papa tried to thank him he said : 

“ Why bless your heart, Warrington, I 
never took such a delightful party to a show 
in my life, I had two plays before me all the 
time;” and then he quoted some Latin which 
papa laughed at, but Reggie did not quite 
understand. 

It was delightful ; and I was surprised to 
find that this great writer was as simple and 
kind as less distinguished people. 

Papa said “ The greater the mind the sim- 
pler the manner.” It must be so. 


CHAPTER IX. 

LEX IN TROUBLE. 

UCH a delightful spot by 
the sea! And it comes 
upon you suddenly, while 
you think you are still in 
the woods. Thanks to 
those dear Bostonians, we 
came upon it in the very prettiest way. It 
was a lovely morning, and I had just said to 
Aunt Axy: “You can’t think how I dread 
the car ride again for papa,” when Reggie 
tapped at my door and said papa wanted me. 



io5 


Lex in Trouble. 


loy 

I went to his room, and there I read the 
kindest little note you ever saw. I read it 
over twice before I could speak a word. It 
was from one of the gentlemen who had been 
with papa the evening before, telling him he 
wished to give himself the pleasure of driv- 
ing down over the road in his family carriage, 
and two of the boys would oblige him by 
taking seats in another one which a friend 
of his would send down. “ I will order a sub- 
stantial lunch and we will take things easy.” 

Could anything be more delightful 1 “ Why 
papa Warrington, what does make people say 
‘ cold-blooded Bostonians } ’ ” 

“ It is not our experience, daughter,” said 
papa, “ but I know Gresham has entertained 
people for weeks in Richmond, who have 
never had the kindness to invite him to their 
houses, when he has been here. Some of 
our western friends complain of the same 
thing.” 

“Yes, with too much reason, I fear,” said 


io8 Six Little Rebels, 

a gentleman who was waiting to take papa’s 
answer, “as a Bostonian I am sorry for it.” 

“ Perhaps the ladies are less hospitable ” 
said Reggie, “you know we have not seen 
any of the Boston ladies yet.” 

“ Nonsense,” said I, “ it is the mothers 
who make men noble ; if the Boston men 
are such dear, delightful, kind souls, what 
must the women be ? ” 

Never, never shall I forget that ride. It 
was a little bit of “ kingdom come ” I told 
papa, and when at last we reached our new 
home, and all -the glory of the sea lay before 
us, I felt as little Bertie did, “ afraid to shut 
my eyes, for fear it would all go away and be 
only a beautiful dream.” 

Inside, the house was complete; Josiah 
“knew what sick folks wanted,” and had ar- 
ranged everything for our comfort. 

He was younger than Aunt Lucinda, and 
as brown as a berry, but from the first, I saw 
he was honest, brave, and tender-hearted ; 


Lex in Trouble, 


log 

and I liked him. I think he liked me too, 
for after tea he came up to me as I sat on 
the end of the piazza, and asked in a low 
tone, “ if I would like to take a turn or two 
in the little craft out there ? ” 

“ Oh very much ” I said eagerly, and then 
I remembered my boy. 

“ Go right along Miss Dolly,” said Miss 
Lucinda, “ the child is sound asleep, and 
you’re not called upon to watch over his 
dreams.” 

“ May I papa.f^” I asked, Captain Josiah 
has invited me, and we will not go out of 
sight .f^” 

“ You will not miss me will you 1 ” 

“ Go little woman, by all means, this is a 
rare night, and brings back my boyish love 
of the sea, run, off with you, and take a thick 
shawl. Reggie and Walter will keep me 
company, and I dare say the captain will find 
room for Charlie and Ned.” 

“To be sure sir, there’s another boat of 


no 


Six Little Rebels, 


mine just off that point yonder, if the other 
young gentlemen know how to handle an 
oar.” 

“ They will keep me company to-night, 
thank you captain, but to-morrow, you and I 
will arrange to give them lessons in boating.” 

We went down on the beach and soon 
pushed off. Nothing could be more beauti- 
ful, the rock shadows, the clear moonlight, 
the pretty villas on shore, with lights gleam- 
ing from them, the strolling parties on the 
beach, the songs of other parties on the 
water, were like the beautiful dream Bertie 
spoke of. 

Ned, who was seldom still, leaned over the 
side of the boat and trailed his hand in the 
water; Walter looked far away and I fancied 
thought of his poor mother, sick, and sor- 
rowful in a land of strangers; and I took in 
all the glory and beauty, and thanked God 
he had let me see it, and then felt myself a 
very small atom in the great universe. 

After the captain had rowed us about in 


Lex in Trouble, 


III 


silence for awhile, I thought it was not very 
polite in us to be so still, so I tried to talk to 
him, but people are sure to say silly things 
when they talk from a sense of duty, and of 
course I did. 

“ Don’t you ever get tired of rowing? ” 

“ Not often. Miss, not round here.” 

“ I want to learn,” I said, thinking of 
Dick’s last words. 

“ It will give me nothing but pleasure to 
teach you. Miss,” said the gallant captain. 

“Ned rows,” said Walter, “don’t you 
Ned?” 

“Just a little, but captain, hold up a bit, 
didn’t I hear some one call ? ” 

“ The boys foolin’ on shore,” said the sailor, 
“ they never know when to quit such nights 
as this.” 

Again the captain leaned forward and took 
a long stroke, but he stopped suddenly : 

“You are right young man,” said he, 
“there’s a sound of distress just over there 


II2 


Six Little Rebels, 


agin the point of rocks,” and away he 
steered in that direction. 

“ Oh dear,” I said, “ I do hope our first 
night in this lovely spot will not begin with 
trouble.” 

“Never say ‘trouble’ young lady until 
you see it,” said Captain Josiah, as he pulled 
with a will. 

As we came near the point of rocks the 
old sailor muttered something under his 
breath and brought the boat about. 

“ Help hel ’ — we heard distinctly, and 
then I could see the water dancing and rip- 
ling in the moonlight. 

“ Nothing but a dive will do now,” said the 
sailor, “ take the oars Mr. Ned, and run her 
up on the beach, wait there, until I call.” 

It was only a few rods about the point, 
and Ned had only, time to seize the oars 
when Captain Josiah went over board with a 
clean jump. 

I was so thankful Ned knew what to do, 
and I was more than thankful that the moon 


Lex in Trouble, 


1^3 

was hidden by a cloud so that papa could 
not see us when we landed. 

Ned sprang out and pulled the boat up, 
and there we waited. 



It seemed an hour to us all, but it was 
really a very few moments, before the captain 
called “ all right,” and then he came down 
over the rocks and on to the beach, bringing 
something, we could hardly tell what. 

“ There, Miss Warrington,” said the captain 
puffing with his violent exercise, “ I’ve fished 


Six Little Rebels. 


114 

this black rascal up, and if he was never 
rolled and pounded before in his life, he has 
been now.” 

Yes, there was Lex, or all there was left of 
him in the captain’s arms. 

“ Oh don’t let papa and Bertie know,” I 
said, “ get him up to the house quick, but 
don’t let them see.” 

“ There is no call to,’’ said the captain, “ if 
the young men will just pull that boat up a 
trifle higher. I’ll take him round the back 
way to the women folks, and we’ll fix him up.” 

The boys and myself walked soberly up 
the beach determined to carry back a good 
report. 

They were all sitting where we had left 
them, and I was the first to speak. 

“ Papa, did you ever see a more beautiful 
night ? ” 

“ Very lovely, daughter, and how did you 
enjoy your first trip on the sea .? ” 

“It was glorious,” I said, “ I shall never 


Lex in Trouble, 


forget it,” and all the time I shivered, as 
I thought of poor little Lex. 

Miss Lucinda was knitting in the dark, 
and I said as carelessly as possible: “Your 
brother has gone round to the kitchen with 
something for you I believe,” and the good 
soul went out at once. Walter followed her, 
but Ned helped me out with glowing de- 
scriptions of the water by moonlight, of the 
nice boat, and the beauty of the shore. 

In order to give them time enough to take 
care of the “ drowned boy,” I coaxed papa to 
stay out a little longer and brought him 
some extra wrappings. It was very hard 
work to keep any trouble locked away from 
my precious father even for a few hours, but 
Dr. Howard had taught me how necessary it 
was during his sickness, and since then, little 
things affected his nerves as they had never 
done before. I curled up in my shawl on 
the arm of papa’s chair and chattered away 
with my thoughts in the kitchen. By and 


ii6 


Six Little Rebels, 


by Walter came back and Ned asked in the 
most innocent manner if Miss Lucinda’s vis- 
itors had gone ? 

“Yes,” said Walter, seeing the point at 
once, “ the coast is clear, and Lex and Aunt 
Axy are in bed.” 

Then we all went in to prayers and some 
of us found our thoughts wandering to the 
sea, and Josiah’s burden. When papa was 
snug and comfortable I went into Miss Lu- 
cinda’s room where I found all four boys 
with her, talking over the narrow escape. 

“ I knew something was wrong as soon as 
Dolly spoke,” said Reggie, “ the tone of her 
voice was enough.” 

“ Papa didn’t discover it,” I said. 

“He probably thought as I did at first, that 
your new experience saddened you a little; I 
have heard my father say that two things al- 
ways affected him to tears, one was, the music 
of a band, and the other, perfect silence on 
the water/’ 


Lex in Trouble, 


117 

“ But wasn’t it a bare chance for life, Miss 
Lucinda ? ” I asked. 

“ Bare enough,” she said, “ but he’s all 
right now, and if this doesn’t teach him a 
lesson nothing will.” 

“ How did he come there ? asked Ned. 

“ I reckon he heard Josiah tell the boys 
about the other boat and he went after it, 
but he won’t talk much about it before to- 
morrow; Aunt Axy will take good care of 
him to-night, and I really do think it is time 
for all of us to be in bed.” 

“ There is just one thing I would like to 
say, and that is, you had better not sit out 
round, evenings, much until you get used to 
the sea air; to-night is an uncommon warm 
night, for the last of June down here, but 
you’ll often be glad enough of the open fire 
in the sitting-room.” 

“ I think we are glad for everything, you 
dear old soul,” said I, “ what should we all 
do if it were not for this cozy home. - Boys, I 


Six Little Rebels, 


ii8 

mean to name it, let us call it the ‘ Pilgrims’ 
Rest.’ ” 

■* The ‘ Rebels’ Roost,’ you had better say,” 
said Charlie, I am sleepy enough to dream 
until noon.” 

Then we all said our good nights, and went 
to bed. 


CHAPTER X. 


GAY DOINGS. 



HE next day Lex was so bright and 
seemed so sorry, we concluded to tell 
papa the whole story, for he alone could 
check the wayward little “ imp of darkness,” 
as Josiah constantly called him. 

As Miss Lucinda suggested, the boy had 
heard the remark about the boat, and being 
always ready for adventure, started off to 
follow us and not being used to the rocks, 
he slipped and fell, and but for Ned’s quick 
ears, and Josiah ’s strong arms, we should 


[20 


Six Little Rebels. 


have lost our quick-witted, but vexatious 
little Lex. 

The first day we spent in unpacking and 
arranging with occasional runs down on the 
beach, or pauses, to admire something the 
boys had discovered. 

Papa’s room was charming. At Miss Lu- 
cinda’s request, I had taken some pretty 
muslin curtains, and some nick-nacks from 
home, and it did not take us long to put them 
in order. 

My room was the “ spare room,” as they 
call the guest chamber, in New England, and 
although it was very pleasant, I did bump 
my head several times where the roof sloped 
down over my bed. Bertie had a little old- 
fashioned trundle-bed which pushed in un- 
der mine by day, and took up most of the 
room by night, but the child was delighted 
with it and called it his “ bureau bed ” be- 
cause it went in like a bureau drawer. 

Altogether we were very comfortable, and 
every day seemed to give new life to little 


Gay Doings, 


I2I 


Bertie. For one week we gave ourselves a 
good vacation. Our two invalids would 
watch us from the piazza, or listen patiently 
to our stories when we came in from fishing 
or walking. 

As soon as Bertie was strong enough to go 
down on the beach, and be amused, Josiah 
proposed that we should go over on the 
island for a “fish fry.” We were ready for 
anything, but how could we leave papa.f^ 

Josiah must have told him our trouble for 
the next day after prayers he said : 

“ There is one thing children, about our 
life here which I want you to remember; you 
must never hesitate about any reasonable 
pleasure on my account. You are young, 
and I want you to enjoy every moment of 
your lives; I know how anxious you feel 
about our absent ones, and I know they 
would wish you to look on the bright side, 
so learn all you can, see all you can, enjoy all 
you can, and I will more than enjoy hearing 
it from you. Bertie and I will be content to 


122 


Six Little Rebels, 


let you strong ones do all the running, racing 
and rowing, while we will hear about it with- 
out any of the work.” 

“You will take care of Uncle doctor, won’t 
you, Bertie } ” he said, patting the curly head. 

“ Yes,” said Bertie, doubtfully, “but Dolly 
will come home nights won’t she ? ” 

“Yes pet, Dolly will be here nights, and a 
good many days too ; for next week there is a 
piano coming down here for her, and her 
music will keep her in, and make us all 
merry.” 

Dear papa, that was just like him, to order 
a piano for me without saying a word about 
it, and then to prepare Bertie for my going 
out with the rest. 

We went to the island and had our fish 
fry and a real fish chowder such as I never 
tasted before. 

The captain made it, and I insisted on tak- 
ing some home to papa. The captain 
showed the boys how to make spoons with 
clam shells stuck into bits of stick, he gave 


Gay Doings, 


123 


us lessons in fishing for cunners and rock- 
cod, told us queer stories of his sea life, and 



made us so happy, it seemed to rne the sun 
set very early out of spite, and we had prom- 
ised to leave for home at sunset. 

The next day Josiah took us to Baker’s 
Island where we saw two light-houses, one 
larger than the other. We saw the keeper, 
his wife and his daughter; and the kind old 
gentleman took us up into the largest light- 
house and showed us the lamps, and told us 
that every night they must be re-trimmed 
about midnight. Down-stairs in the house 
where he lived he pointed to a door which 
his faithful dog had worn through, scratching 
it to wake his master at the right hour ; and 
the old dog stood by and wagged his tail 



124 


Six Little Rebels, 


looking from one to another of our party as 
much as to say : 

“ Yes, I did it, pretty well, for a dog.” 

Then the keeper’s daughter interested us 
because her father said when he was sick, 
she went out and up to the lights night after 
night to do his work for him. 

Reggie thought the government ought to 
give the dog a medal, and the young woman 
“ a fat office for life.” I thought very few 
young girls would do it, or be willing to live 
on that dreary island. 

Another place which pleased me very 
much was “ Pride’s Crossing,” there we went 
for our first long walk, and there we found 
some rare and beautiful ferns for papa’s col- 
lection. We saw some lovely villas on the 
shore which charmed me very much for I 
always had a fancy for a large roomy house, 
but Charlie declared the ‘ Rebels’ Roost ’ 
was a heap better for real fun.” 

We sat down to rest a little, not far from 
a neat little house, where Reggie asked for 


Gay Doings, 


125 

a glass of water for me, and a good woman 
brought us some, asking if we would not 
like a drink of milk? of course we would, I 
was never so tired and hungry, and we all 
did our part to empty the large pitcher she 
passed out full. We offered to pay her, but 
she would not take a penny, saying: 

“ A sup of milk was no great to give any- 
body, but it was refreshing like if you was 
tired ; when she was house-cleaning or draw- 
ing in mats or such like she always made it 
a rule to drink considerable milk.” 

It was very kind, and so unexpected too. 

Walter said if that was a specimen of 
Yankees he wouldn’t mind living North, but 
Josiah told him she was uncommon clever, 
she had two boys gone to war, all she had ; 
and she was kind of fond of boys anyway. 

“ Well, Josiah,” said I, “you think the boys 
won our lunch do you ? Now I fancied she 
looked at me and liked me as well as I did 
her.” 

“ Dare say Miss,” said sober Josiah, who 


126 


Six Little Rebels. 


could not understand any kind of joke, “ but 
you see she is uncommon, most folks about 
here sell everything they can, and need all 
the pennies they can get ; but some that don’t 
need ’em want more.” 

One morning just as we had finished our 
lessons Josiah came in to see papa. 

“ If it’s agreeable to you, doctor,” he said, 
“ I would like to take your young folks over 
here a piece to the Essex Woods. Deacon 
Wisher has lent me old Whitey, and his 
wagon is comfortable enough with some 
boards laid on for extra seats, if it ain’t one 
of your city turnouts.” 

“ Very kind in you captain, very kind, they 
will be glad to go, but you must not let them 
take up too much of your time.” 

“ Well there’s no call to hurry down here 
doctor,” said the captain, twirling his straw 
hat about. “ Time’s as cheap as anything, 
after I’ve brought up my fish and sold ’em, 
and these young folks of yours enter right 


Gay Doings, I2y 

into things with such a will, I rather en- 
joy it.” 

Josiah, Josiah,” called Miss Lucinda from 
the little kitchen. 

“ Aye, aye,” answered her big brother. 

“You can’t think of taking the children 
off so far without something to eat, why you 
won’t be back for hours.” 

“ Well, Lucinda,” said the captain with a 
laugh, “ you’re wise enough ; a box of grub 
never comes amiss with a young crew.” 

So it was settled. Aunt Axy was in her 
glory putting up our lunch. Miss Lucinda 
added some weak tea, in bottles, marked 
“ Best Brown Sherry,” for she knew very 
well we shouldn’t find any decent drinking 
water. 

Every summer when papa and I rode 
about Washington and dear old Georgetown 
I said : “ There could not be more charming 
drives in this world I think ; ” but then, I 
had never been “ down to New England.” 

What a glorious day that was in the Essex 


128 


Six Little Rebels, 


Woods. Josiah knew every rock and path it 
seemed to us, and we were a noisy, happy 
crowd, with a little heart ache back of the 
happiness for us older ones, for we could not 
forget the sad condition of Mrs. Neville, and 
our letters had been missing for some time. 
I told Ned and Reggie one day that the 
only way for us to do was to wait and hope, 
and get as much out of the weeks by the 
sea as we could. Ned said : 

“ I believe you would preach ‘ hope,’ if the 
old fellow with hoofs stood by.” 

“ Of course she would,” said Charlie, “ for 
being a girl she would dazzle the old fellow, 
and have her own way.” 

What queer things boys are, they will 
tease you one moment and defend you the 
next. Reggie generally smiles when the 
rest are teasing, but he never says much. 
If Dick could have taken that ride, what fun 
we should have had — speaking of teasing, al- 
ways reminds one of Dick. 

On our way home we had an adventure. 


Gay Doings, 


I2g 

Josiah thought from the looks of things we 
had better hurry a little or we. should get 
wet. 

I was busy putting some wee little ferns 
in a book to press, and the boys were racing, 
and tearing about, while old Whitey nibbled 
every bush within reach. It was a little 
dark in the woods to be sure ; but I could 
see the sun peeping through the trees, and i'c 
seemed foolish to be in a hurry. 

“ Oh dear, must we go ? ” I said impru- 
dently, never thinking that it was best to fol- 
low the lead of our gallant captain. 

“Well,” said he good naturedly, “ I don’t 
care to spoil your fun, and that ugly looking 
cloud may pass round to the left ; we might 
hang round a little longer, and then get 
home before dark.” 

“ Good,” shouted the boys, and off they 
went, before Reggie could call them back. 
Charlie had seen a beautiful squirrel, and 
they knew just where he had gone. Reggie 
packed the remains of our lunch in the 


Six Little Rebels, 


1^0 

basket and put it in the wagon and I gath- 
ered ferns as eagerly as if I never expected 
to see another. 

Half an hour passed, and the cloud came 
nearer and nearer; one hour, two hours, and 
still no boys ; even old Whitey grew restless 
as the thunder rolled ; Josiah walked back 
and forth calling and shouting to the boys. 
Reggie climbed a tree and gave the whistle 
which never failed before to rally the “ reb- 
els,” and I, mortified and ashamed, packed 
away my ferns and put on the waterproof, 
which Miss Lucinda insisted on tucking un- 
der the wagon-seat. 

Just as the rain began to fall, the three 
boys came tearing through the bushes. 

“ Oh Dolly ! Oh Reg ! such a lark ! we 
have seen — ” 

“Never mind what you have seen, Ned,” 
said Reggie, “just pile into this wagon, the cap- 
tain has waited for you quite long enough.” 

“ Put on all the coats and cloaks you can,” 


Gay Doings. 


13 ^ 

said Josiah, “ it is coming down pell mell in 
less than five minutes.” 

We tumbled in as fast as we could, but no 
one had any extra wrappings except Josiah 
and myself; his oil skin jacket was under the 
seat, ready for service if need be, and long 
before our runaways returned he had it on. 

Whitey was vexed at the long delay, and 
showed it by running so fast, we had all we 
could do to keep on the seats which Josiah 
had made for the occasion. 

Every flash of lightning made the woods 
seem darker than before, and as Josiah said, 
in less than five minutes the rain fell in tor- 
rents. The boys huddled together and tried 
to keep dry, but it was useless. At Ned’s 
hint I took my pretty sun hat off and hid it 
under the shawl which covered or tried to 
cover our laps, where we sat on the back 
seat. 

We had all seen thunder showers, but 
never before a regular thunder storm. The 
trees crashed and bent with the terrible wind. 


132 


Six Little Rebels, 


the lightning zig-zagged all about us, and the 
thunder rolled, and whirled, and growled, and 
bellowed in our very ears. Dozens of times we 
were sure that the lightning struck very near 
us, and poor Whitey was so terrified, Josiah, 
who was a better sailor than horseman, 
could hardly control him. Reggie, who* had 
been trained to manage horses, begged per- 
mission to take the reins, but the sturdy old 
sailor hung on for dear life, and would not 
give up. 

No shelter was near, and the only course 
was to keep on through the darkness, and 
pitiless storm, until we reached an opening 
where we remembered a friendly barn. 

It was a terrible ride, and all the way I 
blamed myself for it ; and strained my eyes 
to see before us; why, I could hardly tell, but 
it seemed to me we were rushing into danger. 

“ Reggie, there is something coming,” I 
said just before we reached a turn in the 
road, “ I hear voices.” Hardly had I uttered 
the words, before crash went our wheels, and 


Gay Doings, ijj 

out of the darkness came an angry voice 
exclaiming: 

“ Can’t you see where you are driving to, 
man ? ” And there we were, with locked 
wheels, frightened horses, and in the midst 
of a furious storm. 

The angry man was a countryman, with a 
low open wagon and a woman by his side, 
wrapped up so we did not know what it was 
until she spoke. 

“ Be patient Will, be patient; don’t you see 
he has a big load, and the storm in his eyes } ’ 

“See!” said the man, “I’m not a tele- 
scope — whoa, Dandy, be still, you rascal.” 

Reggie went to old Whitey’s head and pat- 
ted him, and Ned did the same for the 
stranger’s Dandy, while the. two men and the 
other boys managed to free the wheels, by 
waiting for flashes of lightning to help them 
see the real condition of things. Josiah 
said little, but worked ; and I think no one 
was more thankful than he when we drove 
up once more to the cottage door. 


CHAPTER XI. 

RUFUS CHOATE AND WONDERLAND. 

OSIAH! well I never!” so 
said Miss Lucinda, as she 
came to help us out. “What 
did you think of yourself to 
keep these poor children 
out so? I dare say Miss 
Dolly has caught her death.” 

“ I am all right,” I exclaimed, “ and I am to 
blame.” 

“No she isn’t, we are,” said the boys. 

134 



Rufus Choate and Wonderland, 7^5 

“ Well, well, if I ever,” said Miss Lucinda 
fairly dragging me into the house. 

“ All right, papa,” I said, standing on a mat 
to drip, “ were you worried ? ” 

“ A trifle anxious dear, but get dry and we 
will hear about it.” 

“ Look papa,” I said, holding up all there 
was left of my pretty sun hat, with its wreath 
of daisies, now a bunch of soft pulp, and 
nothing more, for the rain had poured in 
everywhere. 

“ Too bad, daughter, but run now all of 
you, take a brisk rubbing, and a cup of Miss 
Lucinda’s ginger tea, which she has kept 
waiting for you, and then for a full account 
of your journey.” 

Away we scampered. Bertie wanted a kiss 
and a hug, but the poor little fellow had to 
wait until I shed my suit. 

Walter declared after we were all dressed 
and went down that he didn’t want to be 
“ Molly-coddled,” and drink ginger tea, but 
Reggie told him it was a slight thing to do. 


136 


Six Little Rebels. 


to please the doctor, so he swallowed it, but 
made up fearful faces. 

Then we went in and told papa our story, 
each one adding a little, but it was not until 
its close that we found out what had kept the 
boys. 

“So the delay, the wetting, the danger, 
were all owing to three of my boys running 
after squirrels was it } ” 

“No sir,” said Ned, “we started for a 
squirrel, but we found a fellow cutting wood, 
who told us if we wanted to see the sight 
which all strangers went for, we must keep 
on and then turn.” 

“ And we saw it,” shouted Charlie, “ saw it, 
and I am glad, if we did get a ducking.” 

“ Yes, and we are going again some day, 
and go into it,” said Walter. 

Papa laughed, and so did Reggie and I. 

“My dear boys,” said papa, “will one of 
you talk at a time, and please tell us what 
you saw which gave you so much pleasure ? ” 

“ The house where Rufus Choate was 


Rufus Choate and Wonderland, /j/ 

♦ 

born, the great lawyer papa likes so much, 
and whose picture hangs in the office at 
home,” said Ned. 

“ It was a shame Reggie didn’t go, for he 
is always reciting some of his speeches,” 
said Charlie. 

“ Reggie and I will go some day by our- 
selves,” said I laughing, “ and leave you boys 
to wait in the woods for us.” 

“Well,” said papa, “even this adventure 
will teach you something of the duty you 
owe your elders; if Josiah’s council had 
been of sufficient weight, I should have had 
my flock about me at tea time ; but all is well 
that ends well, eh, Ned ? ” 

Not one of us took cold; that was a com- 
fort; and as to my hat, why, it gave us 
another frolic, for we all went with Miss Lu- 
cinda over to Salem, to buy a new one, and 
get our pictures taken before we burned any 
more. 

The shade hat did not trouble us much, 
for we found a cheap one ready trimmed, and 


Six Little Rebels. 


13S 

as soon as we were ‘‘ done ” at the photo- 
grapher’s we^ started out to see the sights. 

We went to “Callow’s Hill” where the 
witches were hung, and saw the house where 
they were tried, and spent a good hour in 
the museum, where the boys nearly went 
crazy over the wonders from foreign countries. 
We left them there while Miss Lucinda and 
I made a call on an old friend of hers, who 
lived in a queer old house all by herself, and 
had three big bolts and a chain on every 
door. The furniture was so old and odd, I 
wanted to ask questions, but did not dare to. 

I had a glass of milk and some little seed 
cakes for my lunch, while the two ladies 
sipped tea out of some dear little china cups, 
which Miss Priscilla said her grandfather 
brought over himself years and years ago. 

Everything in Salem seemed “ years and 
years ago” to me — the houses and many of 
the people. All the portraits on Miss Pris- 
cilla’s wall were painted “years and years 
ago,” the silver was so old I felt ashamed of 


Rufus Choate and Wonderland. Tjg 

being so young, and at last, when Miss Pris- 
cilla unbolted another door, and ran with 
little dancing steps across the garden, and 
brought in an old, old lady to see Miss Lu- 
cinda, it seemed to me that it was a real 
disgrace to be young, and bright, and wear 
shade hats with daisies, for all they talked of 
was “ the good old days,” and “ her mother’s 
father, and his second wife’s first cousin.” I 
found out one thing while they were talking, 
and that was, that almost everybody in 
Salem was related, and they didn’t like “ new 
people,” and “ new things.” 

After all I liked it ; the talk, and the queer 
old house, and the brasses, and the sideboard, 
and the old-fashioned women who said “ little 
dear,” to me. 

I am tired of hearing so much about the 
witches, it always makes me shiver and feel 
sad, but I do like those tall three story 
houses which like the “ Excelsior” “keep get- 
ting on, upper and upper.” 

I ate my seed cakes in an old chair, more 


140 


Six Little Rebels. 


than two hundred years old, and my feet 
rested on a stool made out of a cradle which 
belonged to one of the old Governors. 

“ I asked Miss Priscilla if she supposed 
he cried just like other babies? ” 

She laughed a kind little laugh, and said : 
“ she supposed he did, and had to take 
‘ mint tea’ to stop him.” 

The old, old lady they called “ Hitty,” 
asked Miss Lucinda if I was old enough to 
sense it when my mother died. 

Lucinda said something in a low voice, 
whereupon both of them shook their heads, 
and said, “ poor little dear,” as if I were a 
baby, instead of a girl in my teens, and 
“ papa s housekeeper.” 

When we came away. Miss Priscilla gave 
me a bit of pink coral, which some of her 
ancestors brought home, and I thanked her, 
and she said : 

“ Come again, little dear, come again, and 
look at the old things, if you don’t mind an 
old woman.” 


Rufus Choate and Wonderland, 141 

When we went back to the museum and 
told the boys, Reggie said Salem “was a 
regular treasure house of antiquities, a real 
wonderland,” he had heard his father say; 
and he wished he could call on Miss Pris- 
cilla, but the other boys said the museum 
was worth a hundred old houses, and all the 
known countries put together, and old 
women were plenty everywhere; they liked 
the museum best. 

When we went home that evening, we 
found papa’s Boston friend there, and he in- 
sisted on hearing our stories just as papa 
would do, so we told everything, “seed 
cakes ” and all. 

“ Well, well, doctor,” said he, “ this old Com- 
monwealth of ours will be a new Historical 
work to your young people, you must spare 
them some day and I will show them still 
greater wonders in the ‘ City of Peace,’ she 
has been the mother of many brave and 
notable men and women.” Papa thanked 
him, and I was delighted. 


142 


Six Little Rebels, 


Reggie came in while he was there, with 
the evening paper, and passed it to me. I 
knew at once there was something he wanted 
me to see and not speak of. Bertie was in 
my lap, and I managed to glance at the page 
near me, and saw the name of “ Thorpe,” 
with this brief mention : 

“ There is now no reason to doubt the 
truth of a former despatch, to the effect 
that young Lieutenant Thorpe was fatally 
w’ounded in a recent engagement. He was a 
young man of great promise, and entered 
the Union Army from a sense of duty, while 
his father entered the Confederate service as 
a chaplain. We are told that the sorrowing 
wife and mother spends all her time in our 
hospitals caring for the sick and wounded.” 

It was hard work to keep the tears back as 
I read the short paragraph. I recalled every 
music lesson at home, or in the old church, 
his patience with all my blunders, his won- 
derful love of music, his devotion to his 
mother, and for a moment it seemed to me I 


Rufus Choate and Wonderland, /^j 

must scream from the pain and grief. Reg- 
gie saw my trouble and remarked that Ber- 
tie was up late for a sick boy, this helped 
me and I asked to be excused. It seemed 
to me that Bertie was never so restless, and 
would never stop talking, but at last he was 
quiet and I could think. Papa’s friend was in 
the little parlor, and I slipped down quietly 
without being seen, and went out to the 
beach where I stayed until I feared papa would 
be troubled. When I returned I found papa 
had promised his friend that we should go 
out with him to see a yacht race, but I said, 
“ I could not go, I was too unhappy,” and 
then papa listened to the sad story of poor 
Harry Thorpe. He was much affected, but 
begged me to get his writing materials and 
let him write at once to our dear old friend 
and neighbor Mrs. Thorpe, while we went 
out for a stroll on the beach. 

It was now several weeks since we had 
heard from Col. Gresham, or Mrs. Neville; 
the last letters mentioned the critical condi- 


144 


Six Little Rebels, 


tion of the latter, and the statement of her 
physicians, that her mind was much affected 
by all she had gone through; they hoped 
much from her youth and good constitution. 

“ Boys,” said I, “ let us go down to the 
point of rocks, and hold a consultation,” and 
we all strolled down soberly, just as much 
oppressed with the horrors of war, and our 
own troubles, as any grown up company of 
men and women. 

“ Boys” said I, when I saw they were all 
waiting for me to talk, “don’t it seem a little 
mean for us to go on having good times day 
after day, when our old friends and neighbors 
are wounded and suffering? What can 
we do ? ” 

“ Something, anything,” said Reggie, “ this 
living in peace and quiet, while others are 
dying, or worse than dying, is selfish.” 

“What could a lot of boys like us do?” 
asked Charlie, who always liked to count me 
in as one of the boys« 

“ I don’t know,” said I, “ but I was think- 


Rufus Choate and Wonderland. 7^5 

ing of poor Harry to-night, while Bertie was 
going to sleep, and it seemed to me I would 
be very happy if I only knew some one had 
been kind to him, and made him comfortable.” 

“ They had no business to have the war,” 
said Ned, “somebody ought to suffer, but I 
am just as sorry for the innocent ones.” 

“ Oh Ned, dear,” I said, Vvith tears in my 
eyes, as I thought of poor Mr. Thorpe, who 
was so sure he was right, and of Harry, who 
was just as sure of his course, “ it won’t do 
as papa says, to • question what might have 
been, or who is right, and who is wrong, the 
question is, what can we do to help the 
victims?’^ 

“Cousin Dolly is right,” said Reggie, “ if 
we are young, we can do something, the 
question is what shall it be ? ” 

“ Papa is writing to Mrs. Thorpe,” I said, 
“ now if we could only agree to do some use- 
ful work, I could ask her to tell us what she 
needed most, and we could spend an hour or 
two every day working for the soldiers ; any 


i/f6 Six Little Rebels. 

soldiers we can find to help, it doesn’t matter 
which side.” 

“ The fellows who are going down to my 
home to kill our old neighbors, and the fel- 
lows who come up here to kill yours,” said 
Walter. 

“ The men who suffer on either side, 
Wally,” I said, “your uncle, or my Harry 
Thorpe.” 

They were all still for a few moments, and 
then Reggie said : 

“ Cousin Dolly we will sign an agreement 
if you say so, to keep all personal feelings 
out of the question, and all do as you say, 
work for the soldiers everywhere, if circum- 
stances keep us North, our duty is here, and 
we will try to do it. I think papa would 
wish it boys,” he said in a lower tone. 

That night we all signed the following 
paper, and I wrote a slip and added it to 
Mrs. Thorpe’s letter. 

“We the undersigned, children and wards 
of Dr. Warrington, agree to do all in our 


Rufus Choate and Woriderland. 7^7 


power to relieve the sick and wounded sol- 
diers during the present civil war, with the 
advice and consent of our guardian. We 
do not recognize, nor will any of our num- 
ber mention ‘ North ’ or ‘ South ’ but speak of, 
and work for, our fellow-countrymen wherever 
we find them needing assistance. 

“ Dolly Warrington, 

“ Reginald Gresham, 

“ Edward Gresham, 

“Walter Neville, 

“ Charles Neville, 

“ BERTIE GRESHAM.” 



When little Bertie heard us talking about 
it, and saw the paper, he was so grieved be- 
cause his name was not down, that papa gave 


1^8 


Six Little Rebels. 


him a pen and he printed it. 

After it was all done, papa said he felt 
rather proud of his “ six little rebehr 

By papa’s advice we all went out with his 
friends in the yacht, although I confess I did 
not want to go, and had been dreaming all 
night of poor Harry. 

It was a beautiful day, and a beautiful 
sight. I never saw an ocean race before, and 
the boys were delighted, even Reggie was 
gayer and happier than he had been for 
weeks. 

The vessels seemed like great birds as 
they spread their sails and flew away. 

We had a nice collation on board, and the 
young people who went with us were very 
polite and kind. 

One young girl about my age, amused me 
very much by asking me if I didn’t hate the 
southerners? Her name was Lillian, and 
she was very pretty, but Ned said she was 
under orders not to touch her light suit 


Rufus Choate and Wonderland, 

against anything, and that made her keep 
fussing about her dress. 

Reggie said it was not her fault, for her 
mamma kept repeating : 

“ Lillian, my dear, that side is quite wet,” 
or, “ Lillian, my love, hold your flounce on 
your skirt away from the rope.” 

I suppose she thought my plain travelling 
dress very homespun, very, but I did not 
need to look after it, and papa says clothes 
are not designed as a torment, and it is our 
fault if we make them so. 

We reached home in good season, and 1 
fairly dreaded looking at the evening paper 
again. 

In a few days we received a letter from 
Mrs. Thorpe, just such a letter as I thought 
she would write, full of patient resignation. 
I wished over and over again, I could be so 
good and gentle; I knew I could not, for I 
felt so wicked about Harry’s death, and over, 
and over I said, “ Oh dear, I wish the war 
would end now,” 


Six Little Rebels, 


150 

She sent us this message about our work. 

“ Bless you my dear children for thinking 
of our sufferers ; the half is not told. If 
you can beg old cotton and linen, make 
bandages, hem handkerchiefs, or get up some 
soft carpet slippers, you will help very much. 
We do not need dainty articles, but strong 
and serviceable. Dolly is a pretty good judge, 
after her sad experience in a sick room. 
Whatever you send, pack in a barrel, and 
direct to me, and I will unpack and distrib- 
ute them myself.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE PEACE SISTERS. 

» 'TER that, we worked for the sol- 
diers every day. As we did not know 
many people we could not beg much, but 
Josiah and Miss Lucinda begged for us, and 
one day when papa asked Reggie and me to 
ride over to Salem to get a draft cashed for 
him, we went to see Miss Priscilla, and 
found her busy knitting socks for the sol- 
diers; she said every one of them should 
go in our barrel, and what was m.ore, she 
would “ scurry round ” and get ever so many of 


Six Little Rebels, 


^52 

her friends to send things too, you are so 
sure of them getting to the right ones. 

She sent us to a store where she traded to 
get some bits of carpet for slippers, which 
she cut out ; basting up one pair, .so we should 
be sure to get them right. 

Papa said if Miss Priscilla urged us to 
stay, or we could find anything to interest 
us, we might stay until a late afternoon 
train, but I must pin my money inside the 
waist of my dress. I did so, and we staid to 
dinner, because Miss Priscilla said it seemed 
necessary, if we expected to send a barrel to 
Mrs. Thorpe. 

After dinner we went with her to the three 
sisters. Miss Betty, Miss Sally, and Miss 
Polly. 

I think some boys might have smiled, but 
Reggie didn't, although they did look very 
funny, all three sitting on a long, straight- 
backed sofa. 

A woman almost as old as they were, — 


The Peace Sisters, 


^53 


how old I could not guess, — opened the 
door and showed us in. 

“ These are the southern children, are 
they ” said Miss Polly, the youngest of the 
sisters. 

“ Yes, two of them,” said Miss Priscilla, 
•“this is the doctor’s daughter Lucinda sets 
such store by, and this is one of the young 
gentlemen from Richmond.” 

After they had talked with us a little while. 
Miss Polly said, if we liked old things she 
would take us up to “ Sir’s ” chamber which 
had been kept just as it was for sixty years. 

I couldn’t think who “Sir” could be, but 
Miss Priscilla whispered: “he was their 
grandfather, deary, an old school gentleman, 
one of the best.” 

Such a queer, queer room. The bed went 
up to the ceiling, and had green and white 
curtains all around it, and the. quilt was of 
silk, with big figures all over it. I thought 
if I had to sleep there, .1 should need Jo- 


154 


Six Little Rebels, 


siah’s steps to get in. There was a queer 
old chest in the room, full of old-fashioned 
dresses and clothing, and when Miss Betty 
called over the stair- way, “ Here’s the key to 
the waistcoats Polly ; ” Miss Polly took it 
and showed them to. our wondering gaze. 

Waists worn by their grandmothers, vests 
by their grandfathers, keepsakes, hundreds cf 
years old, flasks and silver spoons, old rings 
and pewter cups, and little love letters, old 
and yellow. 

“Who did save them all.^” asked Reggie* 

“ All of us for years and years,” said Miss 
Polly, “ and we don’t show them to every- 
body my dear.” 

“ You are very kind,” said Reggie, “ I never 
saw anything like them before.” 

“ But yours is a very old family,” said Miss 
Polly, looking at Reg,- — who certainly was 
very good looking — with a smile, “ a good 
family, and a handsome one.” 

Reggie looked puzzled. 

“ Oh yes, my dear, I know all about you, 


The Peace Sisters, 


155 


for Lucinda was always telling us about the 
Warringtons and Greshams, so sister and I 
looked it up, and sure enough, our families 
were connected away back in the ‘Colonial’ 
times, so you see you are quite one of us, 
and very welcome to our poor little show. 
As to Miss Dolly, her father and our only 
brother were class mates ; he has been dead 
for years, poor boy, but we love all his old 
friends, and you seem to belong to us as it 
were.” 

I was so thankful Ned and Charlie were 
not there, for they would hav'e smiled at the 
idea of our belonging to these three queer 
old ladies. Reggie seemed to like it; and 1 
am sure I did, for I cannot help thinking 
when I see old ladies, how I shall look some 
day, and these old ladies were so kind to us, 
and so gentle to each other, I loved to watch 
them. 

Miss Betty was so very, very deaf, the 
others had to scream to her, and whenever 
Reggie or I spoke, they took turns in repeat- 


Six Little Rebels. 


15^ 

ing it to Miss Betty, who always nodded and 
smiled. 

Just before we went down-stairs, Miss 
Polly whispered : 

“ You needn’t mention about the relation- 
ship to the girls my dears.” 

“ The girls,” I repeated, wondering. 

“Yes dear, the sisters, down-stairs; Betty 
has quite set her heart on finding you all out 
before she speaks of it.” 

She seemed so old, so very old herself, 
that I could not help smiling when she said 
“ girls.” 

Then we went down-stairs, . and Miss 
Betty told us stories, while all four women 
clicked their needles, knitting stockings for 
our soldiers. 

Such queer, funny stories as she told of 
the long ago, and true ones too, — I can only 
remember one now, and that was in the old 
times, when men were put in prison for debt. 

One man who owed another, must hide 


The Peace Sisters, 


157 


away, and only come out on Sunday, because 
Sundays they could not be arrested. 

Miss Betty said that an old Salem man 
who used to live “ just over there,” failed; so 
he shut himself up in his house, and one day 
one of his creditors called and asked for 
some money. 

“ I can’t pay, I have failed, he called out,” 
but the creditor knew he could, and as he 
went out, he wrote over the door, with a bit 
of chalk : 

“ A Freeman lives here, 

A Freeman, they say, 

A Freeman to run in debt. 

But not a Freeman to pay.” 

In a few moments a great crowd gathered 
about, and made so much disturbance the 
“ freeman ” was glad to come out, pay the 
bill, and rub off the disagreeable verse. 

It was quite hard to leave the sisters, but 
Miss Priscilla hurried us a little in order to 


Six Little Rebels. 


15S 

show us the birth-place of Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne, and the house of Seven Gables, or 
the one which passes for it. Then she told 
us about Prescott the historian, Bowditch, 
and Story, and other famous men who once 
lived here. I told Reggie I felt as if I had 
swallowed a history of the United States, on 
the spot where it was made, but he laughed 
and said : “ the old city is worth a journey 
from Richmond to see.” 

When we reached our little station we 
found “ the rebels ” there to receive us. 

“ Oh, boys ! ” I said, “ such a glorious time ! ” 

“Not a bit pokey ” asked Ned. 

“ See any machinery ? ” asked Walter. 

“ Where’s my fish line ? ” asked Charlie. 

“ Forward march,” said I, as the twins 
took their places on either side of me, “ now 
not a story of any sort until we get home.” 

Papa found his money all right and gave 
Reggie and me each a dollar for our ser- 
vices, with the promise that Ned and Charlie 
should go next time. 


The Peace Sisters, 


159 


The brightest, nicest days always seem to 
have a cloud at sunset, and our day ended in 
sadness. 

Papa had at last received a letter from 
Col. Gresham ; it was dated Florence, and 
was written long before we left our home. 
The physicians had given up all hope of 
Mrs. Neville’s return to reason ; her mind 
seemed completely shattered and her brother 
had found some American friends, who 
would look after her, in the quiet, pleasant re- 
treat he had found for her. If she showed the 
slightest improvement, these friends would 
send her under the best possible escort to 
America, if not, it was better for her to re- 
main where she was. Col. Gresham would 
leave for home by the next steamer, and 
hoped soon to see his dear children. 

“ Tell Allie’s boys they are as my own, 
and tell them also, I shall never despair while 
their mother lives. No one in our family 
ever suffered from insanity, and poor Allie 
is only dazed with the multitude of her sor- 


i6o 


Six Little Rebels. 


rows, the separation from her children, the 
loss of her husband, and the terrible condi- 
tion of affairs at home. I must go to Rich- 
mond and look after my business there, as 
soon as I have seen you all.” 

It was August, now, and all this time had 
passed without any tidings. Where Col. 
Gresham was, we did not know; and one 
night of suspense followed after another as 
we looked over the papers and turned away 
disappointed. 

I have said before that Charlie and Wal- 
ter Neville were, although twins, entirely un- 
like ; their trouble brought out the differ- 
ence. Charlie was nervous and irritable, 
Walter sad and silent, but both worked 
harder than ever in our “ Hospital Club.” 

About this time, a letter from Dick Miller 
came like a blessing; it was addressed to 
Reggie but included the family. He wrote : 

“ I am coming to your beloved friends for 
a day, or longer if you will have me. Dolly 
did not ask me, but the doctor did, and lo ! 


The Peace Sisters. i6i 

I come. Keep shady, Bertie, we know a 
secret or two.” 

It seems that papa who was always plan- 
ning something to make other people happy, 
had sent for Dick to spend August with 
us, and he was coming. 

Mrs. Miller had been called to New York, 
and the doctor was as usual very busy at- 
tending to his duties. 

The very next day while I was playing for 
papa, and the boys were all out fishing, in 
marched Dick. 

Bertie, who was piling up clam shells to 
make a fort on the piazza, saw him first, and 
screamed out : 

“ Oh Dick, oh Uncle doctor, oh Dolly,” 
and in a moment Dick had him in his arms. 

“ My dear boy,” said papa, “ you are wel- 
come, and welcome again,” and then the two 
had a good old-fashioned hug. 

As for me, Dick merely took my hand 
and said : 

“Sorry to interrupt Beethoven, Dolly. 


i 62 


Six Little Rebels. 


Browned up haven’t you ? Good, hope I 
shall.” 

Then Miss Lucinda came in and actually 
kissed Dick, and declared he was one of her 
own boys. Before she had finished speak- 
ing, he had uttered a hurried “ excuse me,” 
and was in the little cook-room, shaking 
Aunt Axy’s fat black hands. 

“ Land sakes, Massa Dick, you is her’ fo’ 
shure ; well, well, these yere is great days.” 

“ Great days, indeed,” said he merrily, and 
then he went back to papa, 

“The boys are all fishing,”, said Bertie, 
“ but you may stay to supper, and then you’ll 
see them.” 

“ May 1 1 that’s kind. Well I shall stay 
to supper, and to breakfast, and dinner too, 
thanks to our Uncle doctor,” he replied, hold- 
ing papa’s hand in his. 

“You can b’long to the Hoss Club, too, if 
you’ll work, but Dolly don’t let droves 
blong.” 


The Peace Sisters, 


^^3 

“ Is old Whitey who behaved so charm- 
ingly in the woods, a member ? ” 

Bertie looked puzzled, and appealed to me. 

“ It is our working club for the soldiers,” 
I explained, “ Bertie’s crooked tongue has 
never managed ‘ Hospital,’ and for droves 
read drones^ as the printers say.” 

“ I see, I see,” said Dick. “ Well Bertie, I 
will not be a drone be sure of that, if cousin 
Dolly will allow me to join the Hoss Club.” 

Then the boys came home ; tired, hungry, 
and, fortunate, with a good basket of fish. It 
was fun to see them gather about Dick ; he 
stood among them like a Saul, with his 
broad shoulders and curly head, and to every 
one he gave some special greeting. Reggie 
and he stood for a moment with their hands 
on each others shoulders looking into each 
others eyes, but they hardly spoke beyond a 
“ Well, old fellow.” Then we sat down for 
a little talk, until the boys had to dress for 
tea. 


Six Little Rebels, 


[64 

If I were writing a fairy tale, or a made 
up story, these boys would all talk properly, 
and know a great deal of books and eti- 
quette ; but as papa says “ the trouble with 
most books for boys and girls is, that they 
are written of children and not for them,” 
and as young people do use slang, and are 
careless, it seems to me better to paint them 
true to nature ; real, live boys and girls, just 
as they were, and are, not the prinking, fine 
ladies and gentlemen. It would sound bet- 
ter to say that Charlie, and Ned, and Walter, 
and Reggie, retired to their rooms, to make 
their toilet ; but it Mrould not be true for 
every one of these boys had their pants 
tucked into their boots, two of them had on 
torn straw hats, and each and all smelt fishy, 
and salt, but what do boys care for such tri- 
fles ? Down they all went on the piazza to 
look at and listen to Dick. Papa’s chair 
was rolled out, Bertie climbed into Dick’s 
lap, Charlie rolled up his lines, Walter and 
Ned turned over their fish, saying occasion- 


The Peace Sisters, i6§ 

ally “ there, I caught that fellow,” and Reg- 
gie leaned against a pillar watching Dick’s 
every motion, delighted in his quiet way, to 
see him once more. 

There was so much to tell of Washington, 
of the camps, of new orders, and great 
changes, that papa spoke twice, a very unu- 
sual thing, before the boys went in to dress, 
and took Dick with them. 

After tea Ned proposed a row and Dick 
wanted to know how many boats it required 
to carry us all. 

“ Dolly has her own boat,” said Ned, “ one 
of uncle’s friends sent his wife and daughter 
across the big pond just in the nick of time, 
and the young lady’s boat is in Dolly’s 
care.” 

“ And you ought to see her streak it, when 
Dolly goes alone,” exclaimed Charlie. 

“ I mean to,” said Dick, quietly ; but I 
thought, you will not have an opportunity to 
laugh at me Mr. Dick Miller. 

“You are welcome to my boat, Dick, 


i66 


Six Little Rebels. 


whenever you like, the boys will be likely to 
follow wherever you and Reggie lead,” I 
said. 

“ Ned is the duck here,” said papa, “ I 
think my boys are all fond of the water, but 
Ned lives in it and on it. Now if you will 
allow me to suggest, I should say that three 
of you might go out in Dolly’s boat and 
three in the other ; or the ‘ boys boat,’ as we 
call it.” 

Then we drew’ lots, and it ended in Dick, 
Charlie, and I, going in my boat, and I de- 
clared at once that I was too tired to row. 

Papa urged us to return soon, for Dick 
was tired, and besides he had many questions 
to ask. 

“ Take the oars a little while, Dolly,” 
begged Dick when we were well out. 

“ No,” I said, “ Charlie can manage, and 
there is no need; besides, I shall only do it 
‘well enough for a girl, you know.’” Dick 
laughed. 


The Peace Sisters, i6y 

“ So you remember my tender parting 
words, do you ? ” 

“ Yes, I seldom forget a Kindnessr 

Then Dick laughed again, and asked 
Charlie if we lived on fish altogether, for 
Dolly’s brain was too active. 

“ Some of us would come off poorly, 
if her brains and hands were not both 
active,” said my red-headed champion. 

“ I believe you,” said Dick. 

And then we talked of various things, the 
light houses, the yacht race, and all the 
sports of our sea shore life, until it was time 
to return. 

“ Reggie,” said Dick, after I had seen 
papa snug in bed that night, “ do you know 
I think your father has been in Washing- 
ton Reggie’s eyes glowed. “ Yes, some- 
one called at the ‘Woodbox,’ and at our 
house ; we were all away ; he wrote your ad- 
dress down on a card which the servant 
gave him, and we supposed he must have 


i68 


Six Little Rebels, 


come directly here. It didn’t seem to occur to 
him to leave his own card, and I have cross- 
questioned that stupid girl, in every way, 
without a bit of satisfaction ; all she would 
say was : ‘ I see him, Mr. Dick, go to the 
‘ Woodbox’ over there, and look all about, 
then he came here and rang the bell, and he 
asked me when the folks went, and if they 
was all well, and I told him I hadn’t been 
here long, and I didn’t know,’ ” 

“ I have feared that,” said Reggie, “ our 
letters have not reached him.” 

Why didn’t he come directly here ? ” # 
asked Ned, “ he had our address.” 

“ That is the point,” said Dick. 

“ It might have been Arnold, or some of 
your Richmond friends, and not Col. Gres- 
ham at all,” said I. 

“ No,” said Dick, “Mary described him ex- 
actly. Tall, very erect, broad shouldered 
and handsome ; but sad-looking, that corres- 
ponds with the pictures, Reggie.” 

“Yes,” said Reg, absently. 


The Peace Sisters, 


i6g 

“ When was this ? ” I asked. 

“ About three weeks since* ” 

“ Oh well, that is all right, if he was well 
three weeks ago and on this side of the 
Atlantic, I am sure we have ever so much to 
be thankful for,” said I. 

“ Dolly I don’t think you ever give up or 
lose your hope,” said Charlie. 

“ Hopeful Dolly,” said Dick, teasingly. 

Reggie walked the floor and came back 
and forth near my chair so often it made me 
nervous to see him. 

“ Now Reggie Gresham,” I said, “ if you 
will stop ‘ marching on,’ long enough to hear 
me I will tell you something.” He paused, 
looked eagerly in my face and said : 

“ Well cousin.” 

“Without doubt we shall hear from your 
father within a month, so shorten your 
fretting and be happy.” 

“ I wish I could think so,” he said sadly. 

“ Well, let us go to bed and dream of 
him,” I said. 


Six Little Rebels, 


lyo 

“ I did as you suggested,” said Reggie, the 
next morning; “I saw papa distinctly; he 
was standing on the end of a burned bridge, 
and the timbers were falling, I started to go 
to him, but he put up his hands, and said : 
‘ Keep back my boy, keep back, keep your 
feet on firm ground.’ ” 

“ And I jeemed,” piped up little Bertie, 
“that Captain Josiah tooked us all over to 
the island in a boat, and we staid most all 
day, and I wasn’t tired one bit.” 

“ Bless him,” said I, “ the poor darling hung- 
ers for a trip to that island, papa you must 
say yes.” 


CHAPTER XIIL 


A QUARREL WITH DICK. 


FTER breakfast we went to our les- 
sons as usual, and Dick joined us, 
but he made so many blunders in translating 
some Latin, that he laughed at himself, and we 
all helped. 

“You see doctor,” he said, “I am not 
favored with home drill, like these lucky 
fellows.” 

“ I know my boy, but your own honest 
work is the best drill after all.” 

Then we read aloud, but Dick did not read 

171 


172 


Six Little Rebels, 


as well as either Reggie, or Charlie ; papa 
said he had certainly been neglected in 
that respect, for he had a fine voice, and was 
very quick to catch anything. I whispered 
to Charlie that he was too full of mischief 
to study hard. When we had finished our 
lessons papa sent for Josiah, and arranged 
for us to spend the rest of the day in boat- 
ing, or on the Island. 

Josiah and Dick were friends at once, but 
Josiah’s “second wife,” as Miss Lucinda 
always called her, told Aunt Axy in confi- 
dence that the talky young man seemed 
rather queer, and she didn’t take to him as 
she had to the other boys. 

Bertie went with us. Dick insisted upon 
it, and carried a big umbrella and a pillow, 
down to the boat, to make the child comfort- 
able if he wanted a nap. Papa saw us off, 
and then began his writing. Dick said it 
was a shame he did not go with us, and he 
meant to have him yet. 


A Quarrel with Dick, lyj 

But who do you think went, and in my 
boat too ? Why Miss Lucinda ! she de- 
clared she would not, she was too fat, and 
heavy, the doctor would need her, and it was 
foolish nonsense, but Dick and Charlie 
managed it, and when I saw her green ber- 
age sun-bonnet coming down the beach, I 
said, “ Dick Miller, I do believe you always 
accomplish everything you set your heart on.” 

“ Not quite, fair lady, you would not row 
to please me, but Miss Lucinda is more 
obliging, she goes with us to keep you 
all in order, at my request.” And then the 
provoking boy strutted up the beach, making 
himself as absurd as possible. 

Reggie did not care to go, but knew it 
was polite to our guest, and the boys were 
only too glad to show off the coast and har- 
bor to Dick, who boasted of New York, like 
a genuine New Yorker, as he was. 

“ The sea side has done one good thing 
for Miss Dolly,” said Dick to Miss Lucinda, 


174 


Six Little Rebels. 


as he arranged a cushion for her. “She has 
at last found out that her father can live and 
breathe without her.” 

“ Thank you,” said I, “ we had very few 
temptations to leave him at home, anc} he 
was not as strong as he is now.” 

“ Don’t say much about that,” said Miss 
Lucinda, who never quite relished Dick’s 
remarks when they appeared to reflect on 
me, — “goodness knows, her pa and I have 
tried hard to get her out more, especially 
>ince the little fellow came, and I think the 
doctor enjoys it quite as much as she does. 
He has brightened up a good bit since the 
boys came.” 

“ Thank you,” called Reggie, who was put- 
ting the kettle and fry-pan in his boat. “It 
is a comfort to know we have done some- 
thing to make ourselves bearable.” 

Reggie was in one of his “ blue moods,” 
he had them frequently now, and I knew he 
was troubled, so I called out: 

“Why Reggie Gresham, I am sure I don’t 


A Quarrel with Dick, 775 

know what we should do without you, I am 
not half as mean and selfish as I was before 
you all came.” I meant every word I said, 
but I was so provoked with myself for saying 
it before Dick, I knew he would never let me 
forget it. 

Reggie turned about with one of his pleas- 
ant smiles, and said ; “ Thank you cousin, I 
value that from one who hates boys.” 

“ You don’t hate them now do you Dolly ” 
said my little pet, who was sitting very, very 
still, as the boys told him to. 

“ No dear, not since I knew you,” I an- 
swered, but my cheeks burned, for Dick Mil- 
ler kept those great eyes of his fastened on 
me with such a provoking look, I was vexed 
enough to pinch myself. There he sat with 
Bertie nestled close to him, and in his bland- 
est tones called out : “ Come Miss Dolly, 
take your oars, we are all ready.” 

“You don’t mean to ask the child to row 
a great heavy body like me over to that 


Six Little Rebels. 


lyS 

island do you ? ” exclaimed Miss Lucinda, 
amazed. 

“ I want to see her row,” said Dick. “ I asked 
her to learn, and now I want to see how well 
she does it” 

If I was provoked before, I was downright 
angry now, and burst out with, “ If ybu think 
Mr. Miller, that I shall use the oars for your 
benefit or amusement, you are mistaken; I 
am in the habit of rowing when / please.” 

“Oh,” said Dick, mockingly, “ I thought 
you were not selfish now, and would do 
things to please others.” 

I could hardly keep the tears back, but I 
answered : “ Our boys usually consult my 
wishes, and I try to remember theirs.” 

“Good for cousin Dolly,” shouted Ned, 
who was ready to push us off. “ Come, none of 
your nonsense, Dick, turn, and turn about, is 
fair play, if you want to see her row, get up 
early in the morning, she can beat ‘yours 
truly,’ any day in the week, Sundays excepted.” 

Ned sprang into our boat, and took the 


A Quarrel with Dick, 

oars, and with three cheers for papa, away 
we went. 

Miss Lucinda talked more than usual, and 
told some funny stories of the sailors she 
had known, while Ned and Dick were soon 
interested in a race with Josiah and the 
boys. 

“ I wish you were close by me, cousin 
Dolly,” said little Bertie, when the beat 
began to dance a little. 

“ You shall sit by her now dear,” said Dick, 
“ if you like to move, or, if not, you may cud- 
dle under her wing on the home trip.” 

“ I would rather not nlove,” said the child, 
but his little pale face grew paler, and I saw 
him cling to Dick’s arm. 

After we had landed, we arranged a little 
bed for him, and the dear boy seemed glad 
to be on shore again. He looked very com- 
fortable with the umbrella opened above 
him, and held down with a string tied to 
some stones ; I could not help thanking 
Dick for thinking of it. 


Six Little Rebels, 


178 

Whereupon, Dick pulled off his hat, and 
with the most comical face, begged me to 
forgive him for his sarse ; “ I can’t help teas- 
ing, Miss Dolly, indeed I can’t; total deprav- 
ity, original sin, or somethings the matter, 
but I tease that blessed mother of mine some- 
times, until the tears come, and then I want 
to go out and hang myself.” He looked so 
funny, and seemed so ready to begin teasing 
again, I could not help saying, “Oh, Dick, 
Bertie is right, you do act like the monkey 
at the menagerie.” 

“Thank you. Miss Warrington,” he re- 
plied, and marched off looking “ cross enough 
to bite,” Charlie said. 

“What ails you two.f^” said Walter, “are 
you both so sharp that every word cuts .? I 
thought you liked Dick, cousin Dolly.” 

“ It isn’t her fault,” said Charlie, who was 
helping me unpack a basket “ Dick seems 
to think girls are made to be teased, and 
snubbed; you ought to hear Reggie lecture 
him.” 


A Quarrel with Dick. 


179 



b 1 a m e,” I 
said, “ but he is dread 
fully provoking; he is 
our guest you know boys, 
and remember papa is very strict 
on duty to guests, beside he is so 
good to Bertie, and the child loves him.” 

“ Well, he needn’t put on airs,” said Char^ 
lie, who was always ready to defend me, right 
or wrong. “ I like him ever so much, but he 
must stop teasing you, or I’ll duck him.” 

“Tut, tut,” said Miss Lucinda, “don’t be 
rash my boy, the airs that are put on ‘for 
fun,’ are easier to manage than those put on 
‘in anger;’ look at him now, minding, and 
amusing that child, as nice as a woman, I tell 


i8o Six Little Rebels, 

you, Mister Dick has the making of a splen- 
did man in him, if some stupid body don’t 
spoil him.” 

Yes, there was Dick lying on the ground 
close to Bertie, telling him some story which 
delighted the child, for every little while we 
heard his laugh ring out as it had not done 
before since he first came to us. 

Reggie called Dick when they were ready 
to go out fishing, and I took his place, and 
shared my pet’s pillow. Miss Lucinda was 
busy “getting things in trim for a good 
chowder,” she said. 

“ Oh Dolly,” said Bertie, as he patted my 
cheek with his little hand, “ don’t you think 
God is real good to make such a big out- 
doors for us ? ” 

“Yes darling, very, and the sea is so beau- 
tiful to-day.” 

“ I wish we could live here, all the time, 
Dolly.” 

“ Not when the snow and ice come, little 


A Quarrel with Dick, 


i8i 

birdie; then you would be glad to nestle in 
the ‘ Woodbox.’ ” 

“ If I was ever so rich,” said he, with bih 
lions and billions of dollars, I would build a 
big house here for sick folks, and make ’em 
get well. I wish I had something cousin 
Dolly.” 

“ Well pet.” 

“ I wish I had a telegraph right straight 
up to Heaven, like Dr. Howard’s.” 

“ I didn’t know he had one there,” I said, 
smiling. 

“ Well, I mean like the one he showed me 
in the office.” 

“ Well dear, what would you do ? ” 

Oh I’d ask God somefin.” 

“ What dear ? ” 

“ Oh ’bout mamma. I’d ask him to spare 
her just one little wee day, so I could have a 
truly mamma like other boys. I wouldn’t 
keep her long, cousin Dolly.” 

I did not answer. He went on : 


i 82 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ I asked Dick if he ’sposed she knowed 
how good you was to me, and how we all 
loved you, and Uncle doctor, and Dick said, 
no one could help loving you, and Uncle doc- 
tor was pretty near a saint.” 

I raised up on my elbow and looked at 
him, his dark eyes were looking far, far out 
to sea, and he talked on, like a person think- 
ing aloud. 

“ There are so many things I want to 
know, 1 should ask Him why he lets the sea 
get angry and swallow up the poor sailors, 
and then the little children never have a 
papa, to come home. 

“ When my papa comes, he will bring me 
a velocipede, and squeeze me up real tight, 
the way he did when he went away. I wish 
he would come. Uncle doctor says it will be 
a long while yet.” 

“Yes dear, we must be very patient, you 
want to grow ever so much before papa 
returns, you know.” 

When Bertie first came, it troubled me to 


A Quarrel with Dick, i8j 

hear him talk so much of Heaven, and his 
mother, it seemed to me he would die very 
young, as the children in the good Sunday- 
school books do, and I talked with papa 
about it. 

“ Don’t trouble yourself, little woman,” 
said he, “ people generally are very stupid in 
such matters. Our little Bertie is a highly 
organized child, with quite a remarkable 
poetic temperament, only a little more brain 
than body, daughter, and we must help the 
body catch up with the brain. Let his queer 
fancies come out, and when he is too deep 
for you, send him to me ; when he is too 
deep for me I must do as many a man has 
done before me, confess that ‘ I am led by a 
little child.’ ” 

Bertie was perfectly quiet for a little while, 
and I began to think, it was a great relief to 
know that Dick’s teasing did not come from 
dislike, and I confess I felt flattered by his 
remark to Bertie; I had always been long- 
ing to have people love me, but it seemed to 


184 


Six Little Rebels. 


me no one ever did, except papa. Of course 
Miss Lucinda loved me in a “ sorry-for-me- 
way,” I didn’t like that ; Aunt Axy, yes, I 
really think she loved me out and out, with- 
out “ ifs,*” or “ huts,” or “ because,” and now 
dear little Bertie loved me because he needed 
me, but the girls at school used to call me 
“ odd ” when I spoke out my thoughts, and 
then when I refused to speak them they said 
“ I was a queer girl anyway.” 

I never felt “ queer,” only lonely, and tired, 
when papa lay so sick, and I had wished 
hundreds and hundreds of times, just as 
Bertie did, that God could spare my mother 
for a little while. Perhaps I should never 
have been “ odd ” or “ queer ” if she had been 
with me. I had one girl friend, one bright, 
pretty, gay crony, who sent me long letters 
every week from Philadelphia. She was the 
only child of wealthy parents, and they were 
dear friends of my dead mother ; long, long 
before the boys came, I cried hard one day, 
because two spiteful girls at school, sneered 


A Quarrel with Dick. 185 

at my composition, after the teachers had 
praised it; those girls called me the “Queer- 
ity writer.” Then Cora put both arms 
around me, and called me a dear, dear 
girl, and begged me not to mind. They 
did not see me weeping, oh no; and papa 
never knew it, but Cora comforted me as she 
always did. 

“You are original darling, all the teachers 
say that, and it is a nice thing to be ; now I 
am just a poor, little commonplace school 
girl, no one calls me ‘ original,’ or marks me 
ten on my essays.” 

“ I should rather be as commonplace as 
Aunt Axy, and have everyone love me,” I 
said bitterly, “ oh Cora, I do hate so to be 
queer.” 

Those old hurts in my brief school life 
had never healed, and when our boys came I 
fancied they were polite, first, because they 
were well bred, secondly, because I was 
papa’s daughter, and thirdly, because I was 
kind to them. They tolerated me, and made 


i86 


Six Little Rebels. 


the best of me, but I never thought until 
Bertie’s little speech, that after all Dolly 
Warrington was to some other people pre- 
cisely what her precious papa called her, “ a 
loveable girl.” 

Yes, I was growing fond of the boys too, 
all of them ; and I wondered how we could 
ever go back to our old quiet life, if Col. 
Gresham should walk in some day and carry 
them off to Dixie. Whatever the boys did, 
I did. If they made kites so did I ; if they 
fished I fished ; if they tried experiments on 
turtles, toads, and water snakes, I was always 
with them. 

Josiah gave us all swimming and boating 
lessons, and even papa said “ the boys ” will 
do so and so, when I was included. One of 
the gentlemen from Boston proposed swim- 
ming lessons for me in that city, but two sat- 
isfied Miss Lucinda and myself. 

“ It is like putting a duck in a wash basin 
doctor,” said she one day, and after that we 
all swam about in our “ big pond.” 


A Quarrel with Dick, i8y 

Papa and Bertie had their salt water dip 
at home, and much fun had we in “ toting ” 
up the water. As I lay there looking at the 
blue sky, and the bluer water, I thought over 
all these things, and felt ashamed that my 
temper had risen against Dick, felt more 
than ashamed of my silly pride about row- 
ing, and I then and there determined to be 
so good dear little Bertie would have some- 
thing worth while to tell his mother if he 
had his telegraph. While I was meditating, 
the child had fallen asleep, tired out with 
the excitement of the morning. I covered 
him up carefully, and crept down to ask 
Miss Lucinda if there was any danger of his 
taking cold. 

“No child, not a mite,” said she, “sea 
breezes never give sneezes,” and while I was 
laughing over the old saying, we heard 
shouts, and saw the boys and Josiah making 
for shore. Dick landed first, with two small 
fish, which he flourished about, singing : 


i88 


Six Little Rebels, 


On fish he lived from day to day 
Fish caught by his own hand, 

And when he did not land his prey 
He did not praise the land. 

He led a happy life ; content, 

He never thought to roam ; 

And every day he fishing went 
And brought his net gains home.” 


“Sh, sh, shur,” cried Miss Lucinda, “the 
boy is asleep, don’t wake him until we have 
some dinner ready ; he will have a sea appe- 
tite I’ll warrant.” 

“ Beg pardon,” said Dick,, “ I never had 
such a good time in all my life ; I fished for 
fish, Ned fished for hats, two overboard ; and 
we have all fished up a tremendous appe- 
tite.” 

“Well,” said Miss Lucinda, trotting about; 
“the next thing is, are the fish cleaned ” 

“ Fish cleaned!” shouted Charlie, and Wal- 
ter in chorus, “ why we had all we could do 
to pull in, Josiah and Reg are at them now.” 


A Quarrel with Dick, i8g 

“ I will go and help,” said I, “ for fear you 
will all starve.” 

“ Don’t Dolly, don’t,” said dainty Dick, 
“ it isn’t nice work for a young lady, stay 
here, and let me tell you about the fun.” 

“ I do believe you are lazy,” said I, laugh- 
ing, “ of course it isn’t ‘ nice work,’ for any- 
one, but many hands make light work, come 
Charlie, let us do our share.” 

“ The fact is,” said Dick, in a half whisper 
to Miss Lucinda, “ I am tired ; you see this 
is all new business to me, haven’t got my 
muscle up.” 

“ Cheek’s in good order,” said Charlie, call- 
ing back as we went down the hill. 

“ Charles my son, you are right, I bor- 
rowed some from you, and forgot to return 
it,” said Dick. 

How hungry we all were when dinner was 
ready ! Lazy as Dick pretended to be, he 
fried fish like a veteran cook, while Reggie 
and I cooked the potatoes. 


Tgo 


Six Little Rebels. 


Miss Lucinda made us a pot of chocolate, 
which was nearly as good as our farewell cup 
in Georgetown, and Bertie woke up just in 
time to enjoy it with us. More than a week 
before we had made a store-house on the 
island with Josiah’s help. We dug down far 
enough to sink a small square box, and in it 
we put some bright tin plates, some forks, 
and spoons, and such things as we did not 
care to carry back and forth. Everything 
was found in good order, and our chowder 
had a better flavor than any we had ever 
eaten from elegant china dishes. 

“If papa were only here,” I said, “it 
would be complete.” 

“We must arrange it some way,” said 
Reggie, “do you know I took the liberty of 
asking his old friend about it, and he says 
boating would be of great benefit to him if 
we could manage it without too much exer- 
tion.” 

Walter and I exchanged glances. From 
the day of our coming this had been our 


A Quarrel with Dick, igi 

hope, but we did not share it with the rest. 
Walter was an ingenious boy, always devis- 
ing some labor-saving machine ; papa often 
told him he was the son of a Yankee. 

When we began to carry up salt water, he 
explained a method by which it could be 
taken up to the house, and I think papa 
would have carried it out if he had owned 
the property, as it was, we had “ patent window 
lifts ” without a patent ; patent fastenings on 
doors; a new process for scouring, etc. Miss 
Lucinda never fretted or found fault with his 
filings and dirt, but she it was, who urged 
her brother to fit up a little work-shop in the 
shed. 

This little shop was our refuge on stormy 
days. Ned went there to use his fret-saw, 
Charlie to feed his pet turtles, or rabbits, and 
Reggie to look on and suggest, when he 
grew tired of his books. As for me, I will 
be honest, I went there and spent many a 
happy hour because as Miss Lucinda said I 
had “ a hankering for all kinds of tools.” 


Six Little Rebels, 


ig2 

Reggie sometimes drew our plans, but gen- 
erally, I drew them, and Walter did the 
heavy work, leaving the pretty wood carving, 
and touching up, to me. 

Out of this little shop many useful things 
had appeared. A black-board for family use, 
brackets for Miss Lucinda and Josiahs wife; 
bookshelves for our little study, foot-stools 
for Bertie and myself, picture frames for 
Reggie’s drawings and the pretty plates we 
bought from time to time, a folding desk for 
papa, rustic chairs and baskets for the piazza, 
and now we were all busy making a little 
sideboard for our dining-room, which Miss 
Lucinda said should go into Miss Dolly’s 
house when she was married. 

It was nearly done, the panels were of the 
natural wood, polished, with a little shore 
scene painted in the centre of each. The 
drawers were decorated with fanciful carved 
handles, and the high back had the various 
grains and grasses of the locality, all we 
could gather, painted in little groups, be- 


A Quarrel with Dick, 


193 


neath a very mysterious monogram, an effort 
of Reggie’s to combine the names of War- 
rington, Gresham, and Neville. Papa had 
seen it in bits, but the next rainy day 
would put on the finishing strokes and 
all would enjoy our handy work. 

Beside this, we had something else which 
we must talk about in another chapter. 


CHAPTER XIV. 



WALTER S SECRET. 

. E went home in good season from our 
trip, as we had promised, for it would 
never do to keep our little Bertie out late ;• 
but before we started, in order to show Dick 
that I did not feel ill-natured, I invited him 
out to row. 

He accepted, and seemed very much 
pleased, but soon urged our going back, as 
Bertie was so troubled about my leaving him. 

I tried very hard not to quarrel with him, 
so I talked about his mother, his going back 


Walters Secret. 


195 


to school, and other things, but neither of us 
mentioned boats or rowing, of course we 
were both thinking of it, or he was, and 
when we landed, his “ thank you. Miss Dolly,” 
sounded very little like the praise our boys 
were fond of giving me after a brisk pull. 

“ I hope he is satisfied,” said Charlie, with 
a growl, as I passed him. 

“ I am,” said I, as I threw myself down 
on the grass, and began to fan myself with 
my hat. 

“ You didn’t pull your best. Miss Dolly,” 
said Josiah, who was rather proud of his 
pupil, and now seemed disappointed. 

“ Haven’t any best to pull,” said I with a 
laugh, “ it needs you out in the other boat to 
stir me up to good work.” 

Dick said nothing, but sang : 

“ For my hopes o’er the sea lightly flit, like the wings 

Of the curlews that hover and poise round my bark.” 

“ Where do you get so many sea songs ? ” 


Six Little Rebels, 


ig6 

asked Ned, “ did you study up for this occa- 
sion ? ” 

“Yes,” said Dick, “laid in all the old mag- 
azines and song books I could find, and 
committed them to memory, that accounts 
for my verdancy in Latin.” 

The truth was, Dick had a most remarka- 
ble memory, and could repeat things he had 
read but once or twice. 

That evening we had a quiet time in the 
study with papa. 

“ Uncle,” said Walter, looking up suddenly 
from his chemistry, “ may I have the work- 
shop all to myself to-morrow 't ” 

“ He has something he wants to finish, 
papa,” I added. 

“ Is it a great secret ? ” asked papa. 

“ No, sir, a very simple secret, but Dolly 
knows.” 

“ Oh, well,” said papa, “ if we are at all 
gallant, we must say that if Dolly knows, it 
must be all right, how is it boys, shall we 
grant the request ? ” 


Walter s Secret, 


197 


“ Yes sir,” was the prompt reply. 

“ Do you care for it, if the day is fine, 
Walter.?” asked papa. 

“Yes sir, I would not like to wait any 
longer, the express man brought me all I 
need to-night.” 

The next day we were to visit the “ Sing- 
ing Beach,” but Walter would not go, and I 
made up my mind to stay and help him if he 
needed me. 

The boys were very curious, but papa said 
it was always rude to ask questions concern- 
ing the private affairs of any one, “ depend 
upon it my lads, if people wish you to know 
things, they will manage to tell you, without 
prying questions.” 

At last they went away and left us in 
peace. Walter worked like a hero, and part 
of the time Josiah and I helped. Before our 
tramps returned we were all ready, and went 
out to arrange for the first scene. Walter 
thought it would be best to try it before the 


Six Little Rebels. 


ig8 

boys came back, but I was sure it would 
work, and I wanted all our flock present. 

“ When will the great unknown be re- 
vealed V asked Dick, as he sat whittling a 
boat for Bertie, about four in the afternoon. 

“ Now,” answered Walter promptly, “ if the 
doctor is ready.” 

I had prepared papa, and Josiah was as 
-ager as one of the boys. 

“ All ready,” said papa, who was in his 
..a VO rite seat on the piazza. 

“ Boat ready, Dolly ? 

“ All ready.” 

Then Walter like an eager young in- 
ventor, sprang over the steps, and produced 
some wooden machinery with hinges, and a 
crank which he had previously placed under 
the little piazza. Quick as a flash, he 
fastened one end into some sockets and 
turned the crank, when slowly and carefully 
a wooden track appeared, and began to 
stretch down the sandy beach in the direo 
tion of my pretty cushioned boat. 


Walter s Secret 


199 


The boys looked on surprised; Walter 
was pale with excitement, and I fairly trem- 
bled as I stood at the back of papa’s chair: 

My boat had been pulled up high and dry 
for the occasion, but Josiah was on hand to 
launch her. 

As soon as the little track was ready, Jo- 
siah and Walter fitted the wheels of papa’s 
chair upon the end, on the piazza, and slowly 
let him down upon the sand. 

Bertie stood on the steps looking half 
pleased and half frightened, holding Reggie’s 
hand. Dick looked on admiringly, and Charlie 
and Ned whispered, but no one interfered, as 
papa had requested them to “ keep still, and 
let Walter manage his own affairs.” 

All went well. With no more trouble 
than he usually experienced in getting from 
his chair to his bed, papa was seated in the 
boat, and when he waved his hat above 
his head, it was the signal for the loudest, 
longest, jolliest cheers I ever heard. 

Carefully and safely Josiah slid the boat 


200 


Six Little Rebels. 


down ; when I got in and took the oars as 
Walter had suggested. 

“ Come Walter, my boy, you must go with 
us,” said papa ; “ every inventor must test the 
result of his work.” 

Before he could get in, Reggie was there 
to say : 

“ Well done Walter, you floundered in 
Latin, but triumphed with tools.” 

Ned hugged him, he was so delighted, and 
Charlie was so proud of his mate he ex- 
ploded with : 

“ Bully for you, brown locks, bully for you,” 
and papa did not reprove him for using 
slang, as he generally did. 

Josiah, Aunt Axy, Miss Lucinda, Lex and 
Bertie, all crowded about. Dick after his 
fashion began feeling of the bumps in Wal- 
ter’s head, and exclaimed : 

“ And still the wonder grew, 

That one small head could carry all he knew.” 

“ Come all you fellows, don’t put it all on 


W alter] s Secret. 


201 


me, I never should have put the thing 
through only for Dolly, clear the way please, 
and don’t touch that track, Reggie; look out 
for it will you? ” 

As for me, there was a lump in my throat 
which felt as big as a water-melon. It was 
so charming to have dear papa out on the 
water with me; I had blistered my hands, 
and skinned my knuckles, in the work shop, 
and made my shoulders ache so I could not 
sleep, while learning to handle the oars, but 
I would do it all over again forty times, if 
need be, for the sake of seeing that peaceful 
contented look, on papa’s face. 

He had been very fond of the water when 
in college, and was “ stroke oar,” one of his 
friends told me; and it seemed to me he 
would think of those days and his present 
crippled condition ; but no, he took a long 
look about, drew in a long breath of the sea 
air, and said : , 

“ ‘ He brought me to the banqueting house, 
and his banner over me was love.’ ” 


202 


Six Little Rebels, 


We had read it at morning prayers, only 
a few days before. Walter sat perfectly still, 
watching papa, and I was rowing now my 
very best. It was something to work for, 
with such a passenger. 

“ My dear children I thank you very much, 
more than you can understand ; this is de- 
lightful,” said our dear patient. 

“ And now you can go every day papa, and 
you shall teach me some of your boating 
tricks, for I want to learn to be graceful, as 
well as sure. Josiah thinks I have a good sure 
stroke, but that is not enough. Shall I go 
back now, papa ? ” 

“ Not unless you wish daughter, and feel 
tired.” 

I was not tired, and I did not “ wish,” but 
it seemed only fair that the boys should go 
out for a few- moments with him, for Ned 
was proud of his boating knowledge. 

Walter beckoned to them and down they 
came. Ned and Charlie went out first, then 
Reggie and Dick, and I think no happier 


Walters Secret, 


203 


family could be found in all the elegant villas 
on the shore, than gathered about the tea- 
table in our little cottage that night. 

The next morning papa said he had de- 
cided to allow us a week’s freedom from 
lessons in order to give us ample time to 
show Dick the sights. 

I was very glad, for I had so much to 
do for our club, and my dresses needed so 
many repairs, to say nothing of music and 
boating, it would be a great relief to slide 
over even interesting lessons. 

During the week, I had a long letter from 
Mrs. Miller, and one from Cora. Mrs. 
Miller’s troubled me a little, and I carried it 
to papa. 

“ I suppose our rattle-brain has told you all 
the news, but I must speak a word about 
your visitor. You may tell Reggie, or not, 
as your papa thinks best. 

“ I met a lady this week, who once met 
Reggie’s father at Richmond, and was so 
much pleased with him she would remember 


20 ^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


him anywhere. She says, he passed her one 
day in the street while I was gone ; he was 
looking worn and haggard, so much so, she 
turned to look after him, and as she did so, 
he was greeted by a gentleman who seemed 
delighted to see him, and asked if he were 
stopping in town ; she distinctly heard his 
reply: 

No, I am a wanderer; came here to meet 
my children, but find them in New England. 
I have important tidings from Richmond, 
and find I must manage to go there before I 
can travel north and see my boys.’ The lady 
passed on, but says she was rude enough to 
turn once more, and saw them still talking, 
and she was so much interested in your 
father’s ‘young rebels’ she came to tell me 
about it as soon as possible after my return. 

“ ‘ Why did he not write from Washington ? ’ 
I hear you ask. My dear I presume he did, 
but you know these are terrible times. Doctor 
will make every effort to hear something 


Walter s Secret. 


205 


more satisfactory. Don’t borrow trouble. 
If he was arrested here we should have 
heard of it I think ; he is probably where he 
cannot get away or he may be worn and sick, 
my servant said he looked ill.” 

The boys did not borrow trouble, on the 
contrary, the fact that their father was on 
this side of the Atlantic, was enough to ren- 
der them jubilant, and as papa said, we need 
not be surprised if he walked in upon us 
any day. - 

That night Reggie was gayer and brighter 
than he had been before for weeks, and 
when Ned and Dick said they had arranged 
a race with two “ Boston swells,” as they 
chose to call two lads in town, Reggie pro- 
posed going out to see the fun. 

It was a lovely evening, and I was tempted 
to join the boys, but Bertie had one of his 
“ poor days,” as Miss Lucinda called them, 
and I staid behind. 

Charlie gave us this wonderful account 


2o6 Six Little Rebels. 

, which you must accept precisely as it was 
given, with due allowance for boys’ slang. 
A boy must talk like a boy you know. 

“Oh, Uncle doctor, you never saw such 
fun, Reggie, and Johnny Budd, and that 
quill driver, were the judges ; Ned and Dick 
had Dolly’s boat, and Walter and I took 
ours, and out came the swells in regular 
boating rig, shirts open, and arms bare, and 
all the fol-de-rols, two in each boat, same as 
we were. We were to start from the point 
of Rocks, go out to the judges’ row around 
it, and back to the starting point. 

“ ‘ Richmond against Boston.’ Those swells 
said we ‘ were rebels ’ anyway ; two of ’em 
did; and the other two told them to shut up, 
but Reggie and Budd fixed it up all right. 
Budd’s a good fellow, no ^neak, no shoddy, 
and he can handle a boat too ; you know his 
brother and a cousin were in one of the boats. 
It was ‘ Richmond against Boston,’ and away 
we went ;; Walt pulled everlastingly, and so did 
the others; they had the best boats though. 


Walter s Secret. 


2oy 


when we reached the judges’ boat, Budd’s 
boat and Ned’s were about even, but coming 
in, Ned got about a length ahead, and 
then, — I am awful sorry, uncle, and you 
may keep my month’s allowance back as 
long as you like, but if we didn’t smash into 
those others ; and our boat is hauled up for 
repairs, or she will be; and the jolliest part of 
it is, theirs is stove the worst.” 

Charlie laughed over the crash, but stopped 
to add, “ young Budd is a real brick, though, 
and I am sorry it was his boat the boys had. 
Next time, you must all come and see us.” 

“ See you smash boats 1 ” said papa, smil- 
ing at the boy’s eagerness. 

“Oh no, see the race — those fellows did 
pull well though, didn’t they Ned.f^ ” 

“Capital, but do you know uncle, what I 
liked best was, the way the ladies on the 
shore cheered us, it made me forget every- 
thing but good work.” 

“ Good, my boy,” said papa, “ I hope you 


2o8 


Six Little Kebels. 


will always have the good cheers of the 
ladies to encourage you.” 

“ What / liked best,” said Walter, “ was the 
even motion of the oars, and the clear 
bounds of the boat, ‘ mind over matter,’ as 
the doctor says.” 

“Well, Reggie,” said I, “you and Dick 
must speak now of this \vonderful race.” 

“As for me,” said Dick, “ I think the whole 
thing was a success, in the language of Willy 
Shaky : . 

O, bravely came we off 
When with a volley of our needless shot, 

(The smash you know.) 

“ After such bloody toil, we bid good- 
night. Dick Miller ! ” I exclaimed, the rest 
all laughed. 

“ Dick, were you born making quotations.? ” 
asked Reggie. 

“ Ask my future biographer, sir,” said 
Dick, with a profound bow. 

“Now Reggie, let us hear from you,” said 
papa. 


Walters Secret. 


2og 


“ The boys did well, sir, all of them; Mr. 
Budd thought Ned quite a wonder, said he 
handled the oars better than some of the 
Harvard boys.” 

“ Aha ! Ned,” said I pulling a lock of his 
hair, “ champion oar ! well, I will give up try- 
ing now.” 



“No teasing, cousin Dolly,” said Ned, “ I 
heard Budd ask Reggie if the young lady with 
a blue and white boating suit was our sister.” 

“ And what did Reggie say, pray I asked, 
looking at Reg, who was trying to make 



210 


Six Little Rebels, 


Ned hold his tongue. Ned did not, or would 
not see. 

“ And then Budd said he loved to watch 
you row, you did it so gracefully.” 

It was my turn to blush now, and I did it; 
while Dick ran up and began fanning me 
with a newspaper. 

“ He is coming to call,” said Reggie. 

“ Who, the ‘ swell ” I asked. 

“ No, no, the big one. Harvard Budd, and 
he is a good fellow too ” 


CHAPTER XV. 


NEWS FROM THE FRONT. 



AR! war! war! was heard every where, 


and our little family began to dread 
the arrival of the mail, and yet longed for it. 
Reggie grew so nervous he could not wait 
Josiah’s slow movements in bringing down 
our evening paper, and every day, no matter 
how busy, or how tired he was, the dear boy 
went up to the little post-office. 

Dick Miller was a great comfort to us all; 
he would not let us stop to worry even at 
our “ Hoss Club ” meetings. Dick was full of 


21 


212 


Six Little Rebels. 


his fun and jokes, and his sewing on the slip- 
pers will never be forgotten, “ fancy stitches,” 
he called them. 

Our sideboard was finished, and decorated 
with some rare old china, which those kind 
souls. Miss Lucinda and the Salem sisters 
collected for us. 

Before Dick’s visit was half over, we had 
forwarded one large barrel of hospital stores 
to Mrs. Thorpe, and still we worked on. 
Mrs. Thorpe wrote, “ beg all the old linen, 
and cotton you can, money will not buy 
them.” 

We did beg. With Dick for escort, I 
managed to get up courage enough to ask 
several of the families about us to help fill 
our next barrel. Nearly all were kind, but 
one man said “ help the soldiers, no, I won’t 
send a cent, they don’t get half we send now; 
not a dime, all humbug and cheating.” 

Harvard Budd said that very man was 
making thousands of dollars out of the war. 
He came in very often, and told us about the 


News from the Front, 


213 


little town and its summer residents. He 
called us the “ Gay little Rebels,” and was so 
full of quiet fun, he often brought a smile to 
Reggie’s sober face, by his “ sharp shooting ” 
with Dick. 

His mother called one evening in her car- 
riage, but I did not fancy her, she seemed so 
calm, and cold, with a little of the pompous 
air, which we all disliked in Harvard Budd’s 
younger brother. 

I think she meant to be very kind, and 
rather pitied me for being “ the only girl 
among so many boys,” but I hate to be pitied, 
almost as much as I dislike to be patronized. 

Dick whispered to me that her regular 
diet was “ Boston, in large doses.” 

He liked her better, however, when she 
invited us all to a croquet party on her lawn, 
and took us over her beautiful house. The 
thing I liked best about her, was, her 
fondness for Harvard Budd, she never lost 
sight of him, go where he would ; and he 
never failed to show her all the little atten- 


214 


Six Little Rebels, 


tions which make a lady feel comfortable 
and happy. 

Miss Lucinda says “politeness and finikin 
puckers never made the pot boil,” but papa 
tells her “ that all courtesies shorten the 
time while you are waiting for it, or travell- 
ing on.” 

The boys found out that this Harvard 
Budd s real name was Augustine, but we 
liked “ Harvard ” best, and stuck to it 

Papa said he was a sensible young man, 
and quite worthy of being admitted into our 
little circle, consequently, he came very often. 

The young ladies did not interest me 
much, which was my fault I dare say, but the 
boys talked about things I liked and under- 
stood, while these young ladies looked at 
each other and smiled at my remarks. They 
even laughed when I said I had never seen 
the German danced, and said, “ you poor 
little innocent,” that sent the blood tingling 
in my cheeks, and I said: “lam only a 
school girl you know, and have had no time 


News from the Front, 


215 


for anything but my books, and taking care 
of the sick.” 

Then Miss Budd the eldest said : “ But 
you are quite a wonder, you know dear, for 
all that ; we thought you southern girls never 
did anything but look pretty.” 

“ That is because you don’t know,” said I, 
“ when you go south, you will see how accom- 
plished they are, and how generous too,” I 
added; “but I am only a half-way southerner, 
for my father’s family were Bostonians.” 

“So brother said; well Miss Warrington, 
you must come and see us often, and perhaps 
you will find us generous too.” 

Then our club popped into my head, and 
although I was provoked with them, I told 
them about it, and both young ladies prom- 
ised to give a good package for the next 
barrel. 

We went to the croquet party, but I did 
not like it half so well as a row, and a chow- 
der on the island — the young men were so 
silly and said all sorts of foolish things to 


2i6 


Six Little Rebels. 


the young ladies, and the young ladies said 
silly things back. No it wasn’t nice. The 
people didn’t talk as if they meant what they 
said. 

When we went home, papa gave Dick a 
letter, and in it was one for me. Dear Mrs. 
Miller, she never forgot me. 

“ My darling,” she wrote, “ I think I have 

some tidings for you. This week, the s, a 

‘ sesesh ’ family, received by private hands, 
some letters from their relations in Rich- 
mond, and a little Union officer’s wife who 
boards there, because she could not find 
another place, says they boasted of their 
means of getting intelligence, and read aloud 
portions of the letters. 

“ This interested her, as she had often 
heard me speak of you all. The correspond- 
ent wrote : 

“ ‘ Did you ever see some Richmond boys 
at Doctor Warrington’s? If you have, I can 
tell you something about them. Their father 
came back here from Europe, a short time 


News from the Front, 


2 [7 


ago to see to his property, he found his ele- 
gant house used for a hospital, his sister’s 
Mrs. Neville’s, stored with “ruunitions of war,” 
and his confidential clerk, a confederate 
major. It was rumored that he intended 
going away again, but we know too much 
for that ;> he has a large property, or had, and 
has always occupied some important position. 
He was immediately given a staff-appoint- 
ment, and it will be one while before he gets 
away now, for he was taken down with a 
slow fever, and has been carried to a friend’s 
house to be cared for. J. D.* knows better 
than -to let such birds fly loose among our 
enemies.’ 

“ The officer’s wife pretended to be shad- 
ing a drawing of the entrance to Oakwood, 
but the sharp little woman writes short hand, 
and was really taking down every word 
for us. 

“Now Dolly, tell Reggie slow fever is 
tedious but not dangerous, and don’t borrow 

trouble.” * Jeff Davis. 


2i8 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ As to letters,” said papa, “ how can we 
expect them ? look at this one from an old 
patient in Memphis, it has been two months 
on the way, and is postmarked Lynn, where 
I have not the slightest acquaintance.” 

“ Ah Reggie,” said I, “ did I say hope for 
nothing ? He is not exposed to bullets, is he ?” 

The days flew by, and Dick’s vacation was 
nearly over, but we had many merry times 
before he left. 

Once to Marblehead Neck, one of the 
lovliest, wildest spots on the coast, once to 
Nahant, where we saw the poet Longfellow, 
and his home, and once to take tea with the 
“ Peace Sisters,” as the boys called the three 
dear old ladies in Salem. 

All went but papa, and dear me, how 
Bertie was petted and coddled. I was a 
little uneasy about Dick, but I need not have 
been, for we had not been in the house 
ten minutes, before he knew all the ladies, 
and was sitting on the sofa by Miss Betty, 
showing her a new stitch in knitting, he had 


News from the Front, 2ig 

learned once when he had a sprained ankle. 
We drank tea out of little thin china cups, 
we used spoons which had beqn in the family 
over a hundred years, and we ate the dain- 
tiest little wafer cakes, which Miss Sally 
called “ cookies.” The ladies called the 
boys Reginald, Charles, and Richard, and 
when it came to calling our roguish Ned, 
Edward, poor Charles had hard work to keep 
from laughing. Bertie behaved like a lamb, 
and was kissed so much, Dick said he must 
be sugar coated. A Japanese game, a cuc- 
koo clock, puzzles of all sorts, and queer old 
toys amused us all. Bertie was very happy 
with two little kittens, and a mouse made of 
velvet, and I was just as delighted as I could 
be, for I always loved old ladies, and here 
were three, so kind and devoted to our noisy 
party, that I wondered at them. 

Dick saw me smiling, and wanted to know 
“ if I was sitting for my picture ” 

Three more days of pleasure, and Dick 
was gone. We all marched to the station to 


220 


Six Little Rebels, 


see him off, even Harvard Budd, and Miss 
Lucinda. We shook hands all round, and 
when it came my turn, the saucy boy whis- 
pered : “ I say Dolly, don’t talk Greek with 
Harvard Budd, for Reggie will be miserable.” 

Just like Dick, how could I help it, if he 
walked by my side to the station Beside, 
Harvard Budd was a college student, and I 
a very young girl, if I did feel as old as 
Methuselah. 

Of course I must be civil to the young 
man, when he was so attentive to papa and 
the boys, and I was grateful too, for on our 
very last yachting party it was rough, and I 
was sea sick, and he w^ould not let the others 
come near me, or make any fuss about. 
That was real kindness, as any one knows 
who w'as ever sea sick, and as to Reggie, I 
don’t think he knew when Dick was leaving, 
where I was. 

The train came at last, the conductor hur- 
ried the passengers on, and the last we heard 
was “ We will meet at the ‘ Woodbox.’ ” ^ 


News from the Front, 


221 


Only one more month of the beautiful sea, 
before we were on our way home, taking 
Miss Lucinda with us. 

The Budds came over to bid us good-bye, 
and after they were gone I found a copy of 
Moore’s poems on the study table directed 
to me. Harvard Budd must have left it, for 
on the fly leaf was written in a hand too 
bold for his lady mother : 

“ Miss Dolly Warrington, 

West Beach, Sept. 30.” 

When we reached home tired, and dirty, 
everything was as bright and cheerful at the 
“ Woodbox ” as Mrs. Miller’s kind hands could 
make it. 

“ I know how utterly dreary it is,” she said, 
“ to reach home, tired out after a long jour- 
ney, and find everything musty and dusty.” 

The doctor came in very soon after our 
arrival, and told us we must be prepared for 
great changes outside ; inside, for one brief 


222 


Six Little Rebels. 


evening, we talked as cheerily as possible, 
and forgot the troubles, or put them aside. 

On Monday morning we began work in 
earnest. Reggie, Dick, Charlie, Walter, and 
Ned, were sent to a school, kept by a young 
clergyman who had been induced to open 
it by some officers, whose families were in 
town. Dr. Miller said he had called upon 
the young man, found him quite agreeable, 
and he had thought it wise for our young 
folks to try it for a few months. 

Papa gave up his pupils reluctantly, but 
we all knew it was wise for him to spare 
them, at least, part of the time, and after all 
we would have our little readings with him 
during the long evenings. One reason why 
my dear father consented to the arrange- 
ment was the fact that his summer had so 
increased his strength he was able and anx- 
ious to take up his dear profession to a cer- 
tain extent, and the surgeons at the hospital 
were only too glad to have his advice and 
counsel for two or three hours every day. 


News from the Front, 


223 


While he was gone in the morning, I went 
over the way to recite in French and music, 
but the other branches I took with papa, just 
as we had done before. 

We had just settled down well for winter 
work, when I received a letter from Cora 
Birney, saying her father and mother were 
coming South, and if quite convenient and 
agreeable, she would spend a week with 
me. 

“ It will not matter in the least about my 
lessons papa,” I said, when I had read her 
letter to him, “ Cora will go on with me, and 
the boys will be sure to like her.” 

“ I shall be glad to see her, dear child, for 
your sake, as well as her own, and so you may 
send a cordial ‘ yes,’ to our bright little 
friend.” 

The boys were anxious to have me tell 
them all about her, but I would only say, ** she 
is a dear, lovely girl, and just as unlike me 
as possible.” 


224 


Six Little Rebels, 


Dick declared she would prove one of the 
gushing, simpering sort, and he wished she 
would not come, but two days after, some- 
thing happened which made them all forget 
Cora’s coming for a little while. 


CHAPTER XVI. 



TRAVELLERS IN DIXIE. 

ALWAYS was sure to get into mis- 
chief when left to myself and every- 
body was gone. The sun shone brightly, 
the air was soft, and balmy, and the boys 
were out for a long tramp with Dick Miller. 
Miss Lucinda was in Washington shopping 
for Josiah’s children ; for said she : “I will 
always maintain that Washington is as cheap 
a place for dry goods as I ever saw.” Papa 
was getting up a paper on “ Sanitary Precau- 


226 


Six Little Rebels, 


tions.” Bertie and I were tired of my room. 
“ Let us go for a walk, dear,” I said. 

“ Yes do, cousin Dolly, I have counted 
those tents over there much as a million 
times, Reggie wouldn’t let me go.” 

“No dear, they have gone too far, but 
never mind we will wrap up the baby if it is 
warm, and have a glorious walk before any- 
one has time to miss us.” 

“ Bertie and I are going to walk Aunt 
Axy,” I said, putting my head in at the 
kitchen door, “ be sure and have Lex an- 
swer papa’s bell.” 

“Yes, Miss Dolly, but yer must put on 
yer gums, it’s dreadful muddy I kin tell 
yer.” 

To please the careful soul, I put on my 
overshoes, and away we started for the river. 

We chatted merrily, until we reached the 
old bridge, where Bertie could look over, 
and see the white tents which he had been 
counting. 


Travellers in Dixie. 


22y 


“Did you ever go over there?” asked 
Bertie. 

“ Yes, darling often, we children used to 
run races here on the bridge.” 

“ Can’t we now ? ” 

“No pet, those soldiers are watching us.” 

“ Well let’s walk over, cousin Dolly. Lex 
says it is all Virginia over there, and per- 
haps we could find papa.” 

Poor little fellow, none of us could say 
where papa might be that pleasant after- 
noon. 

“ This is not near papa’s home, dear,” I said, 
“ but it is ‘ Dixie,’ and those are the tents of 
Union soldiers, but neither you nor I can 
pass without a bit of paper signed by a gen- 
tleman called the ‘ Provost Marshal’ ” 

“ Can’t you ask him for one ? ” said the 
child, still walking slowly on, and planting 
his little feet on the planks. 

“ Some day papa will if we ask him, but 
all these soldiers are sentinels to keep us 
from crossing.” 


228 


Six Little Rebels. 


“ Oh dear,” said Bertie, in a disappointed 
tone, “ it looks so pretty over there on the 
hill, with the tents, and the smoke curling up. 
Here comes a soldier I mean to ask him.” 

Before I could stop him, Bertie ran to- 
ward a gentleman in uniform who was just 
coming onto the bridge. 

“ Do you live over there, sir } ” he asked, 
pointing across the river. 

“Yes, my little man.” 

“ Can’t I go over, and see your tents ? ” 

“ If you have a pass you can.” 

“ Have you a pass ? ” 

“ Bertie, Bertie, don’t annoy the gentle- 
man,” I called; but the young officer had 
already taken up the little fellow, and was 
holding him in his arms. 

“ If I will take you over, will you tell me 
your name, and why you wish to go ? ” 

“Yes sir, it is Bertie Gresham, and my 
papa is in Richmond, and he’s a soldier too, 
and I can’t see him ’cause we have to stay 
North, and I want to see how papa lives.” 


Travellers in Dixie. 


22 ^ 


I felt half frightened to hear the little fel- 
low tell all this story to an utter stranger, 
but they were walking on, and I could only 
follow, until the first sentinel was reached 
then the officer paused and I managed to 
say : 

“ I am sorry my little cousin has troubled 
you so much, and I am very much obliged 
to — ” 

The gentleman raised his hat, and smiled : 

“ I think I am indebted to you for letting 
me enjoy the little fellow, he reminds me of a 
little nephew I left not long ago in Michi- 
gan.” 

“Did you come' so far?” I said. “I had a 
school-mate once who lived there, and it 
seemed to me almost out of the world.” 

“We think it the centre of civilization,” 
he said, laughing merrily, “ but I remember 
my little niece used to write me something 
of the sort when she was at school in 
Georgetown,” 


2J0 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Here,” I exclaimed “ here ! was her name 
Mary Brentford ? ” 

“Was and is,” he said, with a merry 
twinkle of his handsome eyes, “ now I think 
of it, you must be the ‘precious Dolly’ I 
used to hear so much about.” 

Dear me, how foolish I felt ; I dare say 
Mary had shown him some of my silly let- 
ters, and he was no doubt laughing at me 
for my awkwardness. 

“ I hope the discovery is not unpleasant,” 
said the young colonel, still walking on ap- 
parently quite indifferent to the sentinels, 
who saluted as we passed. 

“ It is delightful,” I said, “ and I cannot 
help thinking how strange it all is, for 
Mary used to talk so much of her dear Un- 
cle Will. Have you been here long ? ” 

“ Only two weeks,” he answered, “ and 
now if you are willing to gratify this little 
youngster. Miss Warrington, you can w^alk 
over and inspect our camp. I think you 


Travellers in Dixie, 


23^ 

will not be concerned about passes in my 
care, and I will gladly show you how soldiers 
live.” 

“ Do, do, do ! ” said -Bertie, and the boy's 
pleading overcame all doubts, if I had any. 
It never entered my head to think it unwise 
or imprudent, to visit a camp of soldiers 
after visiting them so often in the hospitals, 
with Dr. Miller ; beside, we were in sight of 
our own home windows. 

When Col. Brentford urged us to remain 
and witness a dress parade, and Bertie again 
begged with voice and eyes, and the camp 
fires glowed and sparkled, could I refuse 1 

Dress parades are consumers of time, and 
before we knew it, or wanted it, the sun 
had gone down, and the street lamps were 
lighted across the river. Like a frisky young 
kitten out for a frolic, I had enjoyed every 
moment, and when at last a thought ol 
papa’s terror entered my head, I exclaimed : 

“ Oh Colonel Brentford, I have been very 


222 


Six Little Rebels, 


cruel to stay, papa will be so worried ! I am 
never out alone ; and indeed I thank you 
very much.” 

“ Night comes on suddenly now,” said the 
colonel, “but we will do our best for you. 
My orderly will carry the little fellow, and if 
you will accept Mary’s Uncle Will for your 
escort, we will soon be on the other side.” 

What else could I do? Once on the 
other side, I walked so fast the colonel 
checked me several times, but it seemed like 
hours before we reached the “ Woodbox,” al- 
though we could see the light in the win- 
dows. As soon as I reached the door, I 
burst in, quite forgetting the gentleman who 
had so kindly cared for me. 

Such a picture as I saw ! 

Papa sat in his chair, looking the very 
picture of despair; Dr. Miller leaned against 
the door trying to look unconcerned, and 
Reggie and Dick were out looking for me, 
as I learned afterward. 


Travellers in Dixie. 2^^ 

The orderly put Bertie down in the hall, 
and I had just time to say : 

“ Why, papa dear, you were not fright- 
ened? ” when Bertie ran in shouting: 

“Oh, Uncle doctor, I have been to Dixie, 
and I mean to be a soldier.” 

“ Dear me,” I said, “ I forgot him, I am so 
ashamed,” and out I ran to usher in the colo- 
nel, who looked so amused, I was half pro- 
voked with him. 

“ Papa,” I said, “ this is Colonel Brentford 
of Michigan; he is Mary’s Uncle Will, whom 
you have heard about, and I found him on 
the old bridge ; he has shown us all over his 
camp, and we have had a delightful time.” 

“ I am very glad to meet you, sir,” said 
papa, kindly, “ and I hope my little mad cap 
has not caused so much consternation in 
your camp as her absence caused here.” 

Oh, papa dear, did I worry you ? ” 

“ Not very much daughter,” he replied, 
“ but our streets are not very safe now, and 


234 


Six Little Rebels, 


you have never been inclined to visit after 
dark.” 

Then Col. Brentford explained, with Ber- 
tie’s help, all about our little journey, and 
while they were talking, I slipped away to 
brush my hair. As I passed into the entry, 
Charlie followed me to say that papa had 
sent everywhere for me, and Dick and Reg- 
gie were still hunting for “ the stray lamb.” 

I think I was never so vexed with myself, 
and yet it did seem rather foolish to have so 
many people frightened, because a strong, 
healthy girl happened to be out a little after 
candle light. 

Miss Lucinda was wiser. 

“ I thought,” said she, “ you had walked 
farther than you intended, and I was sure you 
were quite able to take care of yourself, but 
it is all in bringing up; I shouldn’t minded 
going from Dan to Beersheba at your age.” 

Col. Brentford soon left, after promising 
to dine with us the following day, and Ber- 


Travellers in Dixie, 


235 


tie and I sat down to tea with excellent ap- 
petites. 

“ Papa Warrington,” I said, after he had 
taken his second cup of Formosa, “ it was 
fun to go over there, and so unexpected 
too.” 

“ A weakness for adventure, Dolly,” said 
he, “ well, child, you came honestly by that 
trait.” 

“ I cannot see the fun in visiting a camp 
full of rough men,” said Reggie, with a curl 
of his lip. 

He had just returned from his search, and 
left Dick to go in another direction. 

“ Can’t you ? ” said I. “ These men were 
not rough; they were clean, courteous, and 
evidently glad to see us. I am going again 
some day, when papa is willing.” 

“Yes, the colonel ’vited us,” said Bertie, 
“ and he is ever so nice, and says I shall see 
a big, large cannon, next time.” 

While he was speaking, in came Dick. 


2s6 


Six Little Rebels, 


“Well young lady,” he said, “it is well you 
are here, I had just resolved to give notice 
at the Provost’s office, or hunt up a crier.” 

“ Don’t, Dick, I am not worth the trouble, 
and I am really sorry you were anxious 
about me, but the fact is, I thought I could 
take care of myself ; and I have had a charm- 
ing trip.” 

Dick sat down and listened to the story, 
including Bertie’s description of the colonel, 
who “ was most as handsome as papa, and 
just as tail.” 

“Very romantic,” said Dick, “brass but- 
tons, music, starlight, a long-loved, but newly 
discovered uncle, consternation at home, safe 
return, etc., etc., etc.” 

“ Make all the fun you like,” said I, “ but 
the colonel dines here to-morrow, and I dare 
say you will make him invite you to camp 
before he leaves. I don’t wonder Mary 
praised him, he is a perfect gentleman.” 

“ Certainly,” said Dick, “ I have heard my 
father say that brass buttons would make a 


Travellers in Dixie. 


237 


barber into a Major General, if he had cheek 
enough.” 

I was so annoyed I could not answer, but 
papa poured oil on the waters by saying : 

“ He is I think all you claim for him, my 
daughter, and I shall be glad to see more of 
him.” 

“ I have no more to say,” said Dick, with 
one of his profound bows, “ but to change 
the subject, I should like to ask doctor, why 
some of the fellows at our school make it a 
point to call this august circle, a set of 
rebels ? ” 

“ Who does ? ” asked papa. 

“ That Sutler fellow and one or two of 
them, it seems to me the young parson is a 
little to blame.” 

“ I am sure of it,” said Reggie, with some 
spirit, “ he could stop the whole thing with a 
few decisive words.” 

“ I hope Professor Marks has sufficient good 
sense to keep down any turbulent spirit in 
his school,” said papa, “ you youngsters have 


238 


Six Little Rebels, 


enough to do to battle with Greek roots, and 
Latin verbs ; don’t meddle with the war 
spirit in any way, for your elders find it a 
difficult question.” 

The next day Col. Brentford came to din- 
ner, and we were much pleased with him. 
He seemed very young to be in such an im- 
portant position, but papa found he had just 
been made colonel, and was a great favorite 
with his command. I did not wonder Mary 
was so proud of him. 

Before he left he invited us all to come 
over some pleasant day and visit his camp, 
and as Cora would enjoy it we decided to 
wait for her. 

The next morning after the colonel’s visit 
I drove down to the Seminary Hospital with 
papa. He made it a practice to go regularly 
and sit in a little office where all the sur- 
geons could visit and consult with him. He 
called it “ his little mite for his country.” 
Charley called it the “ Dungery.*” It seemed 


Travellers in Dixie, 


239 


very sad to find such a change. In the very 
rooms where young girls had written non- 
sense, and planned scrapes, I now saw wounded 
and suffering men. While papa was talking 
with the surgeons, I called on the matron 
who was an old friend of Miss Lucinda’s, and 
as she said, “ knew all there was to know 
about nursing.” 

She had left her home and all its comforts, 
to do this work from a sense of duty. I had 
begged for weeks to do some settled work 
for the soldiers, but everybody except papa 
and Dr. Howard laughed. When I talked 
with this good woman, she 'did not laugh, 
but said: 

“ It is born in some to care for the sick, 
and Miss Lucinda has told me about you. 
Why don’t you study for a doctor } ” 

I laughed merrily. 

“ My dear,” said she solemnly, “ when I 
was your age I wanted to be a doctor, but it 
couldn’t be done ; now, a few brave women 


240 


Six Little Rebels. 


have made the way easy, and you may do a 
great deal of good.” 

I never forgot her words, and not long 
after Dr. Howard kindly made it possible 
for me to go in and out at the Union where 
kind Dr. G. soon began to call me his assis- 
tant, and told me I had wonderful nerve. 
He did not know how much I -suffered when 
he called on me to help him dress some 
dreadful wound ; nor did he know that I saw 
the sufferers before me all night long in my 
dreams; but the comfort was, in thinking 
that the men were glad to see me, and often 
begged me to stay a little longer. Two 
hours every day, after lessons, I spent among 
them; often I was tempted to stay longer, 
but Dr. G. was evidently in league with papa 
and Dr. Howard, for he would open a door 
when I was busy reading, or writing for 
them, and say : 

“Time up. Miss Dolly; good bye, until 
to-morrow.” 

One day I left papa at the Seminary, and 


Travellers in Dixie. 


241 

went on to the Union, to carry some corn 
cake to a Minnesota soldier, who declared it 
was the only thing he wanted. Aunt Axy 
made it for me, and my “ Minnesota Boy ” 
was glad to see me coming with my flat 
basket. 

“ It is just right,” he said, “ the very thing! 
My own wife couldn’t do it better,” and he 
insisted on sharing it with every man in the 
ward, who felt like eating. 

“No surgery to-day, Miss Dolly,” said 
Dr. G., “ but when you are through here, my 
little drummer wants to see you. Don’t 
growl boys, because I take her away, another 
day coming remember.” 

I read to them from Pickwick, for papa 
said: 

“ Sick people have gloomy fancies enough ; 
give them something bright and jolly to 
think of.” 

When my time was up, I called on the lit- 
tle drummer, who was crippled with rheuma- 


242 


Six Little Rebels, 


tism, took a message from him to write his 
mother, and went out saying : 

“ Good-bye until to-morrow.” 

But the next was a sad day at the “ Wood- 
box” 


CHAPTER XVII. 



BATTLES AT SCHOOL. 

HEN I had walked half way up the 
hill, looking down all the way, and 
wondering what I should do with Cora, while 
I went to the hospital, two boys passed me, 
and one said : “ It is a wicked shame, I don’t 
believe he will ever get over it.” 

“ I bet it will break up the school,” said 
the other ; I looked up as quick as possible, 
and saw two of Professor Mark’s boys going 
down the hill. 


243 


244 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Dear me, what can be the matter ? ” said 
I hurrying on. 

As soon as I reached our door, I knew it 
was something to do with us, for it stood 
wide open, and I could smell camphor, Miss 
Lucinda’s remedy for everything. I did not 
stop to walk, I ran, and went at once to the 
study. 

On the sofa lay Chari, our dear, gay 
loving Chari, and over him stood Miss Lu- 
cinda and Reggie. Dick had gone for papa, 
and his father, and the otheir boys were in 
the dining-room speechless from terror. I 
took off my sack and hat and went back to 
the study. No one had spoken a word, but 
Miss Lucinda sponged his head and hands. 
On his left temple was a cut and dark bruise. 

“ who did it ? ” I asked. 

“ Sutler King.” 

“ Was Bismarck to blame ? ” 

“ I think not, most of the fellows think 
not.” 

“ Has he spoken, Reggie ? ” 


Battles at School, 


245 


“ Not once since the stone struck him.” 

“ If papa would only come,” I said, “ this 
waiting is terrible.” 

Dr. Miller came first, then Dr. Howard 
with papa. After a few hurried words. Dr. 
Miller and Dr. Howard lifted the poor boy 
and carried him up-stairs. 

“ Papa, is it very bad .? ” I asked, creeping 
into my old place. 

“ Bad enough, I fear daughter,” and then 
he buried his face in his hands, and did not 
speak again until the two doctors came down- 
stairs, when he asked Reggie to come in and 
tell him how it happened. 

“ The boys were having some talk about 
the Maryland raid, sir, and Chari was listen- 
ing with the rest, when the boy they call 
Sutler said to him, ‘ Oh, you are one of the 
rebel sneaks coming up here to be pro- 
tected.’ I was afraid Chari would strike him 
but he kept quiet, and bit his lips. A brave 
little fellow from Massachusetts whose father 
is in the War Department spoke up, and 


246 


Six Little Rebels, 


said : ‘ Come, none of that, now Sutler ; you 
know these fellows were here before the 
fighting began.’ 

‘“Yes, precious little while though! every- 
body knows Miss Warrington’s pet rebels,’ 
said Sutler, with a sneer. 

“ This was too much for Chari, and he 
spoke : ‘ See here, young man, you may 
abuse me if you like, and call me names, but 
don’t you dare to speak one word disrespect- 
fully of a young girl who is not only kind to 
a lot of motherless boys, but works every 
day of her life for the Union soldiers.’ 

“ The other boys cried, ‘ good for Red- 
head ! ’ and Sutler was angry. Just as we 
were going in from recess. Sutler threw the 
stone.” 

Reggie could hardly speak, and as for me 
I was crying, with my head on papa shoul- 
der. 

Poor little Bismarck I he was suffering for 
my sake, I thought. 

Papa was very cool and quiet, but Dr. 


Battles at School, 


247 


Howard and Dr. Miller were both very 
angry. I had never seen Dr. Howard an- 
noyed before. 

“ Richard,” said he, “ can you tell us any- 
thing further } ” 

“ I don’t think the trouble all came from 
this, sir,” said Dick, “ this talk about the raid 
I mean ; the feeling has been growing. Reg- 
gie and the others are better scholars than 
any fellows in our school, and Mr. Marks 
has had a trick of calling on them to answer 
questions where others fail. He generally 
puts two or three questions on the board 
every day, and we send in our answers writ- 
ten on paper. Day before yesterday under 
one of these questions was written : ‘ Ask 
the Secession Pets.’ Reggie and I saw it 
first, I think, but Chari did not see it until 
it was his turn to read a scripture text, then 
he was so surprised he sat down, and Mr. 
Marks shouted, ‘ next,’ without looking up. 
The next boy giggled, and Reggie went 
forward, and said : ‘ My cousin s failure, 


24S Six Little Rebels, 

sir was owing to his surprise when he saw 
the sentence on the board behind you.’ Mr. 
Marks turned and looked thunderstruck. 
Then he said, ‘ The boy who wrote that will 
please come forward.’ No one moved. Mr. 
Marks was called out then and while he was 
in the hall, Sutler sprang forward and 
erased the words while many of the boys 
hissed him. Mr. Marks heard the noise and 
put his head in at the door to say, ‘ Mister 
Reginald please take charge for a few mo- 
ments I am called out on important busi- 
ness.’ Reggie stepped up.” 

“No matter about that,” interrupted Reg- 
gie, blushing. 

“ Let us have the whole,” said papa. 

“ I did not tell you for fear it might annoy 
you, sir,” said Reggie. “ It seemed only a 
boys’ quarrel.” 

Dick went on. 

“When Reggie stepped on the platform 
to take his seat. Sutler flung a wad of paper, 
dipped in ink into his face. Reggie wiped 


Battles at School, 


249 


it off, and made a little talk. I can’t do him 
justice, I know, but it was something like 
this ; 

“ ‘ Boys,’ said he, ‘ I hope you understand 
that I am no coward, because I have held 
my tongue when insulted before. ' I am a 
Southern boy, it is true, and so are my cous- 
ins ; we are here to study, not to quarrel, 
and I ask you if you consider this a fair and 
just way of treating strangers ? 

“ ‘ I advise you to stop this nonsense, be- 
fore it grows serious, I have no ill will to- 
ward any of your number, on the contrary, I 
have, I think, some good friends here. Let 
us stick to our studies, and remember that 
gentlemen are above low taunts and sneers.’ 

“ Everybody but Sutler felt that he was 
right, and we supposed there would be no more 
trouble until to-day. Sutler began again.” 

Reggie sat on the sofa with his head 
down until Dick was done speaking, then he 
rose us and went to papa. 

“ You understand, sir.” he said, “ that I did 


250 


Six Little Rebels. 


not trouble you with this because it seemed 
too childish ; as our faithful guardian you 
have a right to know all that takes place.” 

“ My dear boy,” said papa, “ I understand, 
and honor you.” 

“You will never think of allowing them 
to go back, there ? ” said Dr. Howard. 

“ I shall take time to think of it well ; 
meanwhile, the victim of all this petty perse- 
cution, and ill will, requires our constant 
care.” 

Charlie lay all night in a stupor, but Dr. 
Miller did not leave him. 

The next day Mr. Marks called and held a 
long conference with papa. He seemed to 
feel it very much and said that King was 
one of those coarse, turbulent spirits, it was 
hard to control, but he had dismissed him 
from the school, and hoped the other boys 
would return. 

Papa called in Reggie and told him to do 
as he pleased. 

“ I think sir,” said Reggie, “ it will be best 


Battles at School. 


251 


for us to go on as we have been doing in our 
studies. We must bear our part of the bit- 
terness, I suppose. Col. Brentford said the 
wife of one of his captains never came down 
as far as the bridge to meet him, without 
some southerh woman insulting her, fre- 
quently calling out : ‘ Oh, going to meet 
your Yankee Doodle husband, ain’t you ’ 
When educated women do such things I sup- 
pose, Mr. Marks, we must not mind rough 
school boys.” 

Mr. Marks, who was a little, mild sort of a 
man, held out his hand to Reggie, and said : 

“You look at the matter like a man, Mr. 
Reginald, and I am sure I wish it were in 
my power to make your cousin all right once 
more.” 

Poor Chari ! he was very ill. Every doc- 
tor said the chances of his recovery were 
small. 

Day after day Professor Marks called, and 
went away again with a sad face, when he 
heard the usual : “ No better sir.” 


252 


Six Little Rebels, 


In order to keep the house quiet, Walter, 
Ned, and Reggie went back to school ; papa 
gave up the hospital, and I scarcely left the 
house. 

I think Ned’s diary will tell this part of 
the story best, so I will give if here : 

Woodbox,’ Nov. . 

“ This is a pretty household just now, and 
I don’t see any sense in recording misery, 
but uncle said this morning : 

“ ‘ Boys, don’t neglect the little books ; 
they will be valuable sometime, — ’ So here 
goes : 

“ Chari is no better ; he talks,, talks, talks 
night and day, it is awful to hear him. U n- 
cle has a nurse every night for him, and the 
rest take turns days. 

“ Dolly doesn’t do anything but watch and 
nurse him, and when I am out of school, Bertie 
is my charge. This morning they let me go in 
a moment to see Chari. I do wish I hadn’t. 


Battles at School, 


253 


There, he lay with his head shaved, and bags 
of crushed ice on it, and his fingers looked 
like birds’ claws. He kept them moving 
every minute picking at the bed clothes. 
Walt went in once but he couldn’t stand it; 
made him sick all day and he blunders terri- 
bly in his lessons. 

“ Mrs. Miller is everlastingly good ; she 
keeps asking us over there evenings, and 
tries everyway to amuse Bertie. I wish we 
could hear from pa but everything is uncer- 
tain except war. When I was walking down 
street to-day, I met a little German soldier 
and I stopped to talk with him. He had a 
tin pail in his hand, and he looked so sick, 
and weak, I asked him where he was going. 

“ ‘ Puy der milk,’ said he. 

“ Do you belong in the convalescent ward ? 
I said pointing to the hospital. 

“ ‘ Yes, sur.’ 

“ Don’t they give you milk to drink ? 

“ ‘ Blenty, ven I vas in ped, but der ish not 


254 


Six Little Rebels, 


blenty, for mens as ish on der feets, so I 
takes mine leedle penny, and mine chum’s 
leedle penny, and I puy some milk.’ 

“ He loooked so weak and sick, I said : 

“ Give me the pail, and do you sit down 
here on the steps, in the sun, while I bring 
the milk. 

“ The old fellow looked me all over for a 
minute, and said : 

“ ‘ Dat ish goot, I tinks you are good poy.’ 

“ When I went back and gave him his milk 
and money, he seemed surprised, but I told 
him I got it where we bought our milk at 
the old black woman’s, and there was noth- 
ing to pay, so he must save his pennies for 
another day. I wouldn’t let him know I 
paid for it, and the little sick looking chap 
was so happy over it, 1 sat down on the 
steps and let him tell me a long story about 
‘ mine vrow, and blenty of babies out west.’ 
It’s awful cruel to think of killing such men. 
Just think of Colonel Brentford being shot 


Battles at School, 


255 

and men like my father ! I know it is 
wicked, and I wish it could be stopped. 

“ Col. Brentford is what Chari used to call 
a ‘ perfect brick,’ or ‘ P. B.' He sends every 
day to know how Chari is, and day before 
yesterday he made us all go over to his 
camp, and spend the day just because he 
heard papa say the doctors would hold a 
consultation, and he knew we would not 
be able to study. We all went, except Reg 
and Dolly; they had to help take care of 
Chari, and Walter wanted to stay until um 
cle said he should give him the care of Ber 
tie. We had a good time and found oul 
ever so much about breech-loaders, and dif 
ferent fire-arms. I can’t write any more it is 
too much bother.” 

Walter, who seemed so cool and calm to 
others, was growing thin and nervous every 
day, and as. I look into his diary, I read on 
paper all I saw written in his face : 

“ The doctors have been here, and spent a 
long time in Chari’s room. When they 


2^6 


Six Little Rebels, 


came out I saw by uncle’s face that they did 
not hope much, and without saying a word 
I picked up my hat and made off to the 
brook. I sat down under the trees, where 
we used to sit in summer, and thought ot 
everything. If Chari never gets better, what 
is the use of my living.? We don’t know 
about mother, father is gone, and I should 
be all alone. I don’t want to live if he 
goes — poor Chari, poor dear, old boy — he 
was always better to think of little things. 
I don’t think this is a very happy world even 
for boys. 

“ I wrote that yesterday, but did not finish 
it, as I was called down to see Professor and 
Mrs. Marks. They were very kind but I 
never know what to say, and was glad when 
they left. 

“ While I sat under the trees, I heard 
steps coming that way, and heard Dolly’s 
voice say: ‘ I must find Walter, and tell him. 
At first I thought she had come to say the 
doctors had utterly given Chari up, and I de- 


Battles at School. 2^^ 

termined not to speak, for it seemed to me I 
could not hear it said, although I felt sure of 
it. Before I could speak, another voice 
said : 

“ ‘ Isn’t Reggie happy ’ 

“ Then I crept out, and there was Ned 
and Dolly looking for me in a corner of 
the little grove where I used to sit, and 
make models out of wood. As soon as I 
spoke, Dolly said : 

“ ‘ Oh, Walter, good news ! A letter from 
your mother’s nurse, and physician, telling 
us she is improving, and they think she will 
be quite well in the course of a year.’ 

“ ‘ They want you boys to send her cheer- 
ful letters to help on the good work.’ ” 

Walter’s journal suddenly stops here, and 
I must finish the story. 

For a moment his face was bright, and 
then it clouded over, and he said : 

“ She mustn’t know about Chari, it would 
kill her.” 

“ Of course not,” I said, “ but I do believe 


25^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


Chari's case is more hopeful. Dr. Miller 
said he should hope on, if others did not, 
and I am sure Reggie and I found him more 
quiet. We won’t borrow trouble, Wally, 
but you and I will write a long letter, and 
tell her it will be Chari’s turn next time. 

She will think we could not all write at 


once. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


GOOD NEWS. 


N Reggie s diary of Nov. 30th, 
I find the following : 

“ Good news ! Good news ! 
We have heard indirectly 
from my^ father, and he is 
well, but cannot hope to see 
us now. Aunt Allie is improving, her doc- 
tor writes, and dear Chari is able to talk 
with us a little every day. I never knew 
how many kind people the world had until 
now. 



259 


26 o 


Six Little Rebels. 


“ Chari has been loaded down with presents 
of all sorts. Dr. Miller seems like another 
uncle, and our dear guardian has not thought 
of himself for weeks. Mrs. Howard is an in- 
valid, but even she sends something to Chari 
nearly every day, and Mrs. Miller kindly 
kept Bertie more than a week at her house. 
Miss Lucinda and cousin Dolly are quite 
worn out, I know, but they will not own it. 

“ The other day, Dolly’s friend Miss Cora 
Birney came to make a visit which the acci- 
dent had postponed and she too pets our in- 
valid. Both girls declare they will give a 
grand party when Chari gets well, for the 
sake of using up all the good things sent in 
for him. 

“ I wish papa and auntie, could know how 
kind every one is. King’s father and mother 
feel so bad about Chari they have tried every 
way to get uncle to accept some present, and 
‘ Sutler ’ has been sent off somewhere to 
school. 


Good News. 


261 


“Yesterday Mr. King called to say that he 
kept a little phaeton down here at the stable, 
and it would please him if we would use it. 

“ I go to the Union now in Dolly’s place 
and hear a good many funny things down 
there in No. 3, where most of the men are 
pretty comfortable. They have a rough way 
of being kind to each other, which I shall 
never forget, and they enjoy sharing every 
little treat, even their letters from home. 
Walter made a very cunning little engine 
last summer, and one day I carried it down 
to show to a young engineer who had his 
arm torn away by the accidental explosion 
of a shell in camp ; it amused me, to see 
how eager he grew over it, and how he 
begged me to pass it around, and let the 
other fellows see. 

“If you give one an orange he is not easy 
until some one else has part of it. When I 
sit by them and hear their jokes about the 
‘Johnnies,’ and the ‘next cut they hope to get 


262 


Six Little Rebels. 


at the rebels ; ’ I often wonder if they would 
like me less, if I told them my father was a 
confederate officer! 

“ They are brave fellows, and plucky about 
their sufferings ; once in a while a growler is 
brought in, but he gets very little peace, for 
the men are sure to call out : ‘ Shut up,’ ‘ no 
more of that,’ ‘go down with the Johnnies,’ 
and other slang expressions which stop all 
fault finding.” 

Reggie was very kind about our soldier 
boys; papa had several pets in the Union, 
and he often sent Reggie down with books 
or messages, but he never went himself. 
Charlie’s sickness was a great trial to him, 
we could all see, although he talked cheer- 
fully. 

One night after Chari had been talking 
too much, and had grown very nervous, he 
asked papa to let Reggie take care of him, 
for he had something to tell him. Papa 
promised if he would be very quiet, and try 
to sleep as soon as the important council 


was over 


Good News, 


263 


“ What do you think he wanted ? ” asked 
Reggie, when Chari had at last fallen asleep, 
and the nurse took his place. 

“ I cannot guess,” I replied, “ but if there 
is any thing in the wide world which the dear 
fellow wants, he shall have it.” 

“ I wonder you are not tired of us, Dolly,” 
said Reggie, looking as sober as an old man 
of sixty, “ I was thinking while I sat there with 
Chari, how few people would do for us as 
you and uncle have done.” 

“ Reggie Gresham, do you take us for 
heathen ? That is not the topic under dis- 
cussion as Professor Marks would say. What 
does our dear Bismarck want.f^ Tell nie this 
minute.” 

When Reggie was gloomy I always pre- 
tended to scold, and he was sure to smile be- 
fore I finished. 

“Well dear cousin,” he said, “he was 
afraid his head was not quite right, and 
never would be, and he wanted me to write 
a formal request to his mother, and my 


264 Six Little Rebels. 

father, urging them to secure his portion of 
his father’s property to you as a token of 
gratitude for your unselfish care and kind- 
ness.” 

“ ‘ I cannot rest, or sleep, Reggie, unless 
you will do this,’ he said, and so, of course, I 
wrote as he wished ; then he made me give 
him a pen, and he wrote his name in crooked 
letters, underneath the lines. After that, he 
seemed satisfied and fell asleep.” 

“Oh Reggie,” I said, with tears in my 
eyes, “ he is not worse is he What did 
he say about his head.f^ Are you sure he is 
better, as the doctors all say ? ” 

The dear boy’s care for me made me fear 
he would never be any better, and I was 
filled with nervous dread. Papa was sound 
asleep, and every one save the nurse, Reggie 
and myself, were in bed. 

“ I think he is better,” said Reggie, in his 
slow, deliberate manner, “but he is weak, 
and is just beginning to realize his danger.” 

“ But, Reggie, I can’t have anything of his, 


Gooa News, 


265 


I will not, I want dear old Chari — oh dear, 
and I found fault with him the very day he 
was hurt ; because he cracked the glass over 
my ferns.” 

“Don’t cry, Dolly,” said Reggie, “don’t 
cry. Just step up-stairs and see for vourself 
how the old fellow is sleeping ; he will come 
out right yet, and as to the property, Dolly, 
do you know I begin to think we are all beg- 
gars ? ” 

“ Oh no, Reggie, you could not be. Think 
of all your father’s large estates, and Judge 
Neville’s, too ! ” 

“ But the property is taken by the Con- 
federate government; the cotton, tobacco, 
and negroes, will not be of any value now, 
at least to my father, and young Cooper 
writes that our house is used for a hospital. 
Think of it, Dolly, our pleasant home and 
all my dead mother’s belongings.” 

“ Who tells you so how do you know?” 

“ Cooper sent up a package to his mother, 
and I heard of it through the Millers. I did 


266 


Six Little Rebels, 


not mean to tell you, but you see youf 
legacy would never trouble you, and we are 
likely to, for a long time to come. I feel 
like running away and enlisting myself, when 
I think of it.” 

“ Reginald ! ” 

“Yes, Dolly, I am not an idiot, and I 
know the money which my father put in the 
bank must be nearly or quite exhausted by 
this time, and before long I shall speak to 
uncle about it.” 

I thought — well, it is no matter what I 
thought, but I said : 

“ Reggie Gresham, if you dare to talk any 
such nonsense when we are all in ‘ the gall 
of bitterness ’ as Axy says, I will quarrel 
with you outright; don’t you lisp it again, 
he is taking comfort with you boys every day 
of his life, he said so to Dr. Miller only yes- 
terday, and now you mean to spoil all our 
pleasure, by talking about enlisting.” 

“ I only want to do my duty, cousin 
Dolly.” 


Good News, 


26'/ 


“ A queer kind of duty, to leave your 
brothers, and your guardian ; but I should 
like to know where you would enlist ? ” 

“ Here, Dolly, right here, to write in one 
of the offices ; your father would do that for 
me, and I might earn something for Ned, 
and Bertie.” 

“ And you wouldn’t go through the lines 
and join your father ? ” I asked. 

“ No, Dolly, I couldn’t even write down 
the American flag, much as I love my father 
and my old home ; but I cannot be a burden 
on uncle, and I will not.” 

Reggie looked so handsome and deter- 
mined as he said this, that I couldn’t help 
thinking — He is manly enough to do just 
as he says ; so I added aloud : 

“ Well, Reggie, do you promise me to 
keep quiet on this point, and I will talk with 
papa about it.” 

“ How long } ” 

“ Oh, until Chari is strong and well ; you 


268 


Six Little Rebels, 


couldn’t bring any more worries now could 
you ? ” 

“No, I only want to lessen them,” he said, 
“ I will promise on one condition.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“ That my cousin puts an end to her bad 
practice of reading until midnight, when she 
is tired.” 

“ But it rests me.” 

“ Will you promise ? ” 

“ I will promise not to, while Cora is 
here,” I said, “ for the sleepy chick has been 
dreaming of home or Colonel Brentford for 
two hours.” 

“ Don’t you dream of him, Dolly ? ” 

“No, I never get beyond gruel, bandages, 

deodorents, wounds, and now and then a lit- 
\ 

tie music.” 

Reggie went off to bed, and I soon joined 
Cora. 

How pretty she looked in her sleep ! I 
am sure 1 never do. I must pout my lips, 
and frown just as I do when awake, and for- 


Good News, 26 g 

get to “ look agreeable ” as our teacher used 
to say : 

“ Now, young ladies, sit up and look agree- 
able; never mind how you always make 
it a point to look pleasant.” 

I think Cora could, but I was always get- 
ting a little snappiness into my eyes, even 
when I did not feel snappy in the least 

The next day Chari seemed much better, 
and we looked forward to having him down- 
stairs. Reggie said he never mentioned that 
little will of his again, and I was glad to 
think he had forgotten it. 

All the time he was sick. Lex behaved 
quite well, and often gave little talks in the 
kitchen about “growin’ good,” and “de ’spon- 
seebility of dat young man what injured 
Massa Charles.” • 

Cora said she believed he was like the 
pony she had in the country every summer ; 
whenever he was preparing for any ugly out- 
break he was sure to be gentle and good for 
several weeks ; after that — look out ! 


2^0 


Six Little Rebels, 


Cora was as bright as a bird, and she 
never grew tired of the sick room as most 
girls would, but was a real comfort to me. I 
told Chari, I should certainly scalp him, if 
he dared to like her better than his old 
Dolly. 

Poor, wee, wan boy, he tried to laugh, and 
said : 

“ My scalp is safe cousin Dolly, but you 
would be sure to quarrel with me very much 
if I didn’t like her.” 

“ Of couse I should, Bismarck,” said I, “ no 
one could help loving her.” 


CHAPTER XJX. 


STRANGE GUESTS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. 

f W girls,” said Mrs, Miller, one after- 
Loon, when Charlie was able to sit up, 
“ if you are to go under my wing to the 
White House, you must prepare for the next 
reception, for I am liable to be called away 
now at any time.” 

“ Oh dear,” said I, “ then I must have a 
new gown ; even a school girl must not dis- 
grace her friends at the ‘ American Court’ ” 
“ Can’t you alter something } ” asked Mrs. 
Miller, “ we have so little time.” 


271 


2^2 


Six Little Rebels. 


I thought of the pretty dresses folded 
away in a trunk up-stairs, but I could not 
make up my mind to ask papa, for the dear 
mother who wore them was a belle and a 
beauty, and I, only plain Dolly Warrington. 

The President’s Reception was very dif- 
ferent from a party, especially if we went 
with Dr. and Mrs. Miller who were personal 
friends of the President. 

“ I will ask papa about it,” I said, “ and it 
need not take long to make a dress dear 
Mrs. Miller, you know I am quick with my 
needle, as well as my tongue.” 

“ I can help,” said Cora, “ if some one will 
tell me what to do ; you know I have my- 
lovely pink silk which some good angel put 
it into Mama’s head to buy for me to wear 
at cousin Anna’s wedding, and it is ready to 
jump into.” 

Mrs. Miller said she would do all she 
could for me, and after a little more plan- 
ning, the important subject of dress was de- 


Strange Guests at the White House, 27J 

cided upon, and one pleasant day Mrs. Miller 
called for us in her carriage, for a shopping 
excursion. Chari was well enough to go 
down into the study with papa, and we went 
off in fine spirits. 

“ Something good, simple, and tasteful,” 
said papa as he gave me a check, “ my little 
bird must not go with clipped wings, or too 
gay plumage.” 

“ Why, you generous soul, don’t you know 
I must do all I can to look as well as other 
girls do without finery ? ” 

“ Good, simple, and tasteful,” he said again, 
as I closed the study door. 

Cora’s dress was pink, with puffings of 
tulle, mine should be pale blue, caught here, 
and there, with lilies of the valley, my favor- 
ite flower. As we rattled along Cora said : 

“ I do think, Dolly it has never entered in- 
to your head to decide what you will ask 
for.” 


Quite time,” said Mrs. Miller, “for here 


274 


Six Little Rebels, 


we are at Perry’s, and as soon as you have 
decided, I will coax my own dressmaker to 
take you in hand.” 

“ If you please, Mrs. Miller,” said I, “ the 
dress I would like, would be a pale blue silk, 
made as simply as possible with a careless 
looping here and there, of white lilies of the 
valley.” 

“ Why Dolly,” said Cora, “ it will be lovely 
with your complexion ! ” 

“ I congratulate you on your good taste, 
my dear,” said Mrs. Miller, “ now let us se- 
lect our silk.” 

It was great fun shopping with Mrs. 
Miller; she knew everybody and the clerks 
were so polite to her, I knew they considered 
her a person of some importance. The silk 
was cut and sent round to Madame Waugh’s, 
where Mrs. Miller drove, after a little more 
shopping for herself. Madame condescended 
as a great favor, to cut the gown, but she 
could not promise to have it finished in 


Strange Guests at the White House, ^75 

time; could not Mrs. Miller’s own sewing 
girl finish it } 

Mrs. Miller said, yes — while I whispered, 

“We can, Cora and I.” 

So it was settled, and after one or two visits 
to “try on,” and “alter a little,” the pretty 
gown came home, and we girls sat up-stairs 
in my room sewing away for dear life. 

To keep Bertie quiet, I gave him a book 
of pictures, and sent him into the dining- 
room with Lex. This plan worked so well I 
repeated it again, and little dreamed of harm 
to my pet. 

When our fright was over, and our dar- 
ling was safe in my lap, we let him tell the 
story in his own way. 

“ I got tired of pickshures,” said he, “ and 
Lex said wouldn’t we go walk, and I asked 
cousin Dolly, and she said ‘ yes dear, a little 
way,’ and we went. 

“ When we went a little way, Lex said: 

“ ‘ Le’s we go up to de White House, dey 
are having a ’ception there, in the afternoon. 


2^6 Six Little Rebels, 

for folks that takes cold going out nights.’ 

“ And I said, ‘ Is that where Dolly and 
Cora will go } ’ and Lex said ‘ yes, most 
likely you would get there before we did, 
cause you would ride,’ and I thought cousin 
Dolly would be so ’sprized to see me she would 
show me to the President, so we went, and 
went, a big, long way, and by and by, we saw 
carriages and people there right before the 
door. Lex said, ‘ come on,’ and I did. 
Pretty soon we saw two real pretty ladies go 
in, and we went close behind them, and by 
and by, we were in a room where it was real 
crowded, and the President stood there, and 
a lady with him, and all round were ever 
so many more ladies and gentlemen. 

“ Everybody shook hands with the tallest 
man, so I held out mine, and the President 
didn’t take it, but he lifted me right up in 
his arms and said : 

“ ‘ Dear little man, did you come to see 
me } ’ and I said, ‘ yes sir ; ’ then he hugged 
me real tight, and said : 


Strange Guests at the White House, 277 

“ Be a good boy, and mind your mother,’ 
but I couldn’t tell him about her for they 
hurried us on so fast into another room, and 
when I looked back, I saw him shaking 
hands with more people, and his face looked 
puckery just like he was tired, don’t you 
think he was ? ” 

“Yes darling I haven’t a doubt of it, but 
what else happened ? ” 

The family were all seated about listening, 
and the little fellow^ went on : 

“ The pretty ladies went away, and I told 
Lex I wanted to see my cousin Dolly, but 
he said you hadn’t come yet, and it was fun 
to see the folks. Then we stood there until 
a real kind man came up, and said : 

“ ‘ Well my little fellow, have you lost your 
party ? ’ 

“ And I told him ‘ No, cousin Dolly would 
give me one when my birthday came.’ 

“ ‘ I mean have you lost your mamma in 
the crowd he said, and I told him, ‘No 
sir, I lost her in Heaven,’ 


) 


Six Little Rebels, 


278 

“ Then he laughed and called another man 
with white gloves on, and they both laughed, 
and I wanted to cry. Then one of them 
said : 

“ ‘ Whom did you come with my boy 1 ’ 

“ ‘ With Lex,’ I said. 

‘“And who is Lex 1 ’ 

“ ‘ He is our servant,’ I said, ‘ but I am 
afraid he is lost, too.’ 

“ Then one of the gentlemen took hold of 
my hand, and said : 

“ ‘ We will find him my little fellow, don’t 
worry ; I will take you home myself, if he 
does not come.’ 

“ ‘ There’s Lex,’ I said pointing at him, 
and oh ! cousin Dolly, what do you think he 
was doing ? ” 

“ I couldn’t tell possibly, Bertie.” 

“ He had picked up two pretty roses some- 
body had dropped, and he was walking right 
behind a lady and gentleman with them 
stuck up in his wool ! He looked so funny 
making up faces, I laughed right out, and 


Strange Guests at the White House, 


the gentleman who 
held my hand laughed, ,|ji 
too, but a big man went j! 1 
up to him, and pulled 
him away, then my 
nice man called him 
and talked to him. 

“ ‘ Who brought you 
here, you 
young ras- 
cal ? ’ 

Myfeets, - 
massa.’ 

‘ ■ W h ere 
do you live ? ’ 

“ ‘ Over to 
Massa War- 
rington’s, sah.’ 

“ ‘ Aha,’ said the gentleman, ‘ so you 
brought this poor little fellow from George- 
town, did you ? ’ 

No, massa, he walked.’ ; t 



28 o 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ ‘ You deserve a flogging,’ said the kind 
gentleman. 

“ ‘ Yes, sah.’ 

“ Then this gentleman said to me : 

“ ‘ Well, my boy, can you tell me your 
name ? ’ 

“ And I told him I was Bertie Gresham, 
from Richmond, and I lived with Dr. War- 
rington, and cousin Dolly took care of me. 
Then he said something to another man, and 
they looked at me, and by and by some more 
people looked at me so hard, I didn’t like it, 
and the kind gentleman, said : 

“ ‘ My carriage will be here soon, my little 
man, and my wife and I will see you safe 
home.’ 

“ Then we came, and he wouldn’t tell me 
his name, but his wife called him, ‘ dear,’ and 
the coachman ‘ general.’ ” 

That was all the child could tell, and we 
only knew that 1 went to the dining-room 
with a box of blocks which I had found 


Strange Guests at the White House, 281 

while looking in a closet for a piece of 
lining muslin, and no boys were there. Axy 
said, they had gone to walk; but I knew that 
to be at least, two hours before. Dick and 
Reggie came in from a tramp ; and Walter 
was busy over a patent lock for his desk. 
Ned was with Charlie, and no one could tell 
me anything about my run-aways. 

“ Gone to the camp,” said Dick, “come on, 
Reggie, let us get them home before dark ; 
these short days cheat you out of your day- 
light.” 

“ True enough,” said papa, “ Lex is doubt- 
less anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of 
the colonel’s boy.” 

I was in terror. Like an old granny as 
Ned said, I thought first of his health. The 
child was subject to sore throats, and evi- 
dently he had been hurried away with only 
his velvet jacket, which was quite warm 
enough for early afternoon, but not sufficient 
for the cool evening. 


282 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ If he only had his coat,” I said. 

“I could take it,” said Walter, “if you 
would tell me where to go.” 

Charlie grew so nervous about it we were 
sorry it had been mentioned in his presence. 
To quiet him, I ran over to Mrs. Miller’s, 
although I was quite sure he was not there. 
Then Cora, like a real comforter, sat down 
and talked to him until he was calmer, and 
quite interested in her account of a little 
drummer boy whom she had met the day be- 
fore. 

Ned and Walter went to the stores where 
Lex was fond of making speeches, but noth- 
ing was heard of them, until a carriage rolled 
up to the door and they were left, without 
giving us a chance to thank the kind gentle- 
man, whose wife called him “ dear,” and his 
coachman, “ general.” 

That night everybody in the house agreed 
that something must be done to cure Lex ol 
his roaming habit, but the question was-— 
“ what ? ” 


Strange Guests at the White House, 28 g 

Just as I was shutting my eyes, Cora burst 
out laughing. 

“ Are you asleep Dolly ? ” said she. 

“ How can I sleep, when you shake the 
bed like an earthquake,” I said. 

“ I was thinking, Dolly, how Lex must 
have looked marching behind the two fine 
ladies with the whites of his eyes rolled up.” 

Then we both laughed, and wondered 
about the “ general.” 

Lex had his version of the story, which 
papa called for. 

The boys begged so hard to hear it, papa 
consented, and Reggie brought him in. 

“ Lex,” said papa, trying to look very 
stern, “ how came you to run off with Bertie, 
without permission ” 

“ Didn’t, sah. Miss Dolly sayed we might 

go-” 

“ No, Lex, she gave you permission for a 
short walk, you do not call it a short walk to 
the White House do you ? ” 


284 


Six Little Rebels, 


“Yes, massa, heaps shorter dan de wallcs 
I took down home.” 

“ Short for you, but very long for a poor 
little boy who is not strong. Why did you 
go there } no one invited you, no one sent 
for you, no one wanted you.” 

“Yes, massa, Mr. Linkum did; I heerd a 
fellow down to the store say, Massa Linkum 
wanted all his friends to come, and I is his 
friend, sah; ’sides, I wanted to see if Jim 
Crow told de truff, and he didn’t, sah.” 

“What did Jim tell you ” asked papa 
soberly, while the boys were chuckling with 
fun. 

“ Well, he sayd sar, dat Massa Linkum 
was the big fat man we see a riding round 
so much ; a very brack man, and he looked 
so — ” 

Here Lex put his thumbs in his jacket, 
and strutted back, to the infinite amusement 
of the boys. 

“ He isn’t, sah ; no sah.” 

“And you saw the President? ” 


Strange Guests at the White House, 28 § 

“ Yes, sah, I looked roun’ good, till I see 
some pretty ladies agoin’ in, and I said : 

“ ‘ Massa Bertie dese yere are our ladies, 
come on,’ and we went through a crowd, and 
then into another room, and there stood Massa 
Linkum, and he’s the one I knowed, cause 
I’ve got his picture on a penny, an’ he 
stooped down low, like he was doubling up, 
and he called me ‘ little friend,’ he had heard 
of me, I spose.” 

When he had gone thus far in the story, 
every one in the room laughed, even papa, 
and Lex stood looking from one to the 
other, scratching his woolly head, and show- 
ing his white teeth. 

Papa sobered down first. 

“ Very well,” said he, “ the President spoke 
to you } ” 

“ Yes, sah, and he took Massa Bertie right 
up in his arms, and kissed him before all de 
folks, and the lady that stood by him. I spose 
she was Massa Linkum’s wife. She said : 

“ ‘ Oh, what a beautiful child,’ and she 


286 


Six Little Rebels, 


kissed him, too ; then we walked round like 
all de folks, and by and by a gentleman, 
^ ’bout as big as Dr. Miller, with a mustarsh, 
he come and ’vited us to ride home in his 
carriage, an she, the general’s wife, she 
wrapped Massa Bertie all up long side oh 
her, and said he was a poor little baby, and 
she wished he was hers.” 

“ Lex, I am very sorry you have done such 
a foolish thing, and you may have injured 
your little master seriously. Now in order 
to make you remember what you are told, I 
forbid you to go outside of our yard without 
permission, and to-morrow you will be a pris- 
oner in Reggie’s room all day, and he will 
take care of you. One thing more, I want 
you to tell me as well as you can, about the 
gentleman who brought you home. I am 
very grateful to him, and very sorry I cannot 
thank him.” 

“Yes, massa; he had a white coachman 
with a big, red nose, and he called him, 


Strange Guests at the White House, zS'j 

gin’ral, and de lady was putty as Miss Cora, 
and she sayed : 

“ ‘ Better write on your card how we found 
them, dear, the family must have been so 
’stressed ’bout them ; ’ but the gin’ral he only 
sayed : ‘ Let them tell their own story, pet,’ 
and so we has, massa doctor.” 

Fortunately, Bertie came out all right ; no 
cold or sore throat appeared thanks to the 
care of the unknown lady ; but many a 
laugh did we have over President Lin- 
coln’s queer guests. 


CHAPTER XX. 



LEX MAKES A PRESENT. 

I U R first reception was delightful in ev- 
ery way. 

Dr. and Mrs. Miller called for us, and we 
were to meet Major Birney and his wife at 
the president’s. Just as we were starting, 
who should appear but Colonel Brentford, 
with a letter for me, from his niece which he 
had just received in one of his own. Dr. 
Miller insisted on his going with us, and he 
accepted, saying he had started with the 


Lex Makes a Present, 28^ 

White House in view, but did not dream of 
such excellent company. 

When we reached the White House, I 
whispered to Cora in the cloak room, that I 
had already seen so many distinguished peo- 
ple, I felt quite ^jirtinguished. We waited a 
little while for Major Birney, but Dr. Miller 
grew impatient, and settled matters to please 
himself. 

How he managed it, I never could tell, but 
before I knew what I was doing, Mrs. Miller 
was passing in, leaning on the arm of an ele- 
gant looking officer; the accomplished and 
graceful daughter of Mr. Chase followed with 
her father; Dr. Miller had my arm tucked 
in his, and Cora brought up the rear, with 
Col. Brentford. In half a moment I had for- 
gotten everything about me for I was look- 
ing straight into the Presidents face, — his 
good, strong, homely face, and I heard him 
say, — “ Glad to see you, doctor,” — “ God 
bless you my dear young lady ; ” and then it 
came Cora’s turn. As we passed into the 


2go 


Six Little Rebels. 


little circle, following Mr. Chase, as he re- 
quested, I began to get a little more courage, 
and looked about me. What a remarkable 
group ! What good, intelligent faces ! What 
lovely women ! 

Cora could talk better than I at any time 
and now she was just as gay as she could be, 
chatting with a young foreign minister. 

Dr. Miller had forgotten all about me, but 
I was not alone, for of all the elegant gentle- 
men present the man I most admired came 
and stood by me, — None other than Horn 
Salmon P. Chase. He was not too grand 
or self absorbed to notice a shy young girl ; 
and we had such a good little home talk, just 
as easy as we might have had in the library, 
at the “ Woodbox.” 

Dolly-like, I said the first thing I could 
think of, and that was : “ How charming 
your daughter is, Mr, Chase ! her head and 
neck are so perfect in shape, I cannot help 
wishing I could see them done in marble.” 

“ She is a dear girl,” he said, looking fond- 


Lex Makes a Present, 


2gi 

ly at her, “ and you shall see what you wish, 
Miss Warrington, for her foolish old father 
has it now on his mantel, and you must 
come to my house, and see it.” 

“ But I am only a school girl, you know, 
papa would hardly allow me to go out again, 
this is a little treat to-night.” 

“ Then we will make it very bright for 
you, if you will take my arm, I will show you 
something more of the White House, and 
you shall tell me what people you would like 
to know.” 

Then the French minister came up, and 
we could not get away for some time. Dear 
me, how thick my tongue seemed, in a sec- 
ond ! I forgot all the little French I knew, 
and yet he insisted on making me speak it, 
until I appealed to Mr. Chase, and said, “ It 
is the first time I ever tried to talk with a 
Frenchman.” 

“ Then I advise you to go on, for you will 
learn more in this way than in weeks from 
books.” 


2g2 Six Little Rebels, 

What a kind, polite man, the minister 
was ! I forgot to be afraid, and when he told 
me that Miss Nettie Chase, the youngest 
daughter of my companion, spoke the purest 
French he had heard from American lips, I 
resolved to go home and study as I had 
never done before. 

Miss Nettie was not there that evening, 
but many times afterwards I heard her talk- 
ing, and knew she deserved the high praise 
bestowed upon her. It seemed to me one of 
the shortest evenings I ever knew, and when, 
at last, we came away, I told Cora that I 
never thought of my dress once, and I pre- 
sumed it was hunched up, or out of order in 
some way, when I was walking with Mr. 
Chase. 

“ Oh, Dolly dear, you never looked better, 
I was as proud of you as I could be, and 
wasn’t the whole thing pretty ? ” 

“Yes; I squeezed my eyes up, and it all 
looked like a gorgeous panorama, but I could 


Lex Makes a Present, 


293 


not help shuddering when I thought of the 
boys in the hospitals.” 

Dick and Reggie were wishing to hear 
our story, and we sat down in our finery, to 
talk it all over. 

After I had told mine with Cora interrupt- 
ing me to add a little now and then, — Dick 
said, “ Well, I have always declared I would 
never get myself up and go through the cer- 
emony, but on the whole Reg I think it will 
be something to remember, and I move we 
go some evening.” 

“ Very well,” said Reg. 

“ Now, Miss Dolly,” said Dick, “ if you 
will stop spinning round on that piano stool, 
and forget the remarkable people you have 
seen, for ten minutes, I should like to men- 
tion another subject.” 

“ Proceed, Dick.” 

“ To-morrow is your birthday ; never mind 
who told me, and Chari and I propose to cel 
ebrate. The doctor says ‘yes,’ of course, 


294 


Six Little Rebels, 


and I only mention it in order to keep you 
girls from flying off somewhere.” 

“ How jolly ! ” cried Cora, “ we must ask 
Col. Brentford over, and have a good 
frolic.” 

“ Will Chari be strong enough .? ” 

“Yes, the boy is full of it, and you are 
not to ask questions. ‘ Markie ’ takes a hol- 
iday to-morrow, the doctors will all come, and 
you are not to go down to the hospital for 
more than one hour.” 

“ I don’t think I would call my teacher 
‘ Markie,’ if I were you, Dick ; it is not re- 
spectful, and the younger ones will do as 
you do.” 

Dick sprang to his feet and made up a 
pitiful face, as much like Lex as possible. 

“ Please, Miss Dolly,” he said, “ I didn’t 
go for to do it; please ’sense me. Miss Dolly.” 

What a Dick ! 

“ Well,” said I, “ until to-morrow night at 
twelve, you boys may do as you please, 
provided you take counsel with Miss Lu- 


Lex Makes a Present, 


295 

cinda; after that I shall be older than I am 
now, and we will see.” 

“ Dear me,” said Dick, mockingly, “ how 
one evening out has set the child up ! 
Why, here am I, a whole year her senior, 
and she presumes to dictate to me, Regi- 
nald, I can’t fancy how you stand it. I 
must go home and sleep on it.” 

“ Good night,” we said, and the merry- 
hearted fellow ran, whistling, down the 
street. 

The next morning early. Lex was sent 
away with two or three notes, and I kept 
my promise and did not ask questions. 
Chari and papa called Cora in .several times 
to consult with her, and I was entirely left 
out for one day. 

About four o’clock, papa called me, and 
we had one of our good little talks, after 
which Cora and I dressed for the evening,, 
and I waited to see what would come. The 
first guests were Major and Mr. Birney, who 
had been spending a few days in Alexan- 


2g6 Six Little Rebels, 

dria ; then Col. Brentford with a friend, — a 
quick, wiry little officer ; Dr. and Mrs. 
Miller and Dick. 

Miss Lucinda appeared in a new dress, 
with a huge bow of green ribbon at her 
throat. Aunt Axy hugged me until I could 
hardly breathe, and then cried because “ my 
poor dear ma couldn’t see her baby.” 

“ I think she does, Aunt Axy,” said I, 
“ and so does papa.” 

You see I went to the kitchen to speak 
a word with her before the guests came ; 
after that I did just as the boys told me. 

Dear papa, how happy he was ! Dr. Miller 
told him he was one of the men who ap- 
peared at their best with a flock of young 
people about him. 

We had tea in the dining-room, which the 
boys had kept closed all day, and I was sur- 
prised enough when the door was opened. 
Another table had been added to our exten- 
sion, and it was covered with good things. 
The boys had put their money together, and 


Lex Makes a Present, 


297 


ordered a large frosted birthday cake ; this 
stood in the centre of the table, with flowers 
about it, and Aunt Axy’s salads decorated 
every spot which was not filled with pyra- 
mids of ice cream, platters of cold ham, piles 
of light tea biscuit, and baskets of delicious 
cake. Cora and the boys arranged every- 
thing, and I could not help exclaiming, 
“ This is just perfection ! ” 

“ The presents are saved for after supper,” 
said Bertie, who clung to me tighter than 
ever. 

“ Don’t tell tales, little man,” said papa. 

“ No, I won’t,” said Bertie, stoutly. While 
we were at supper, in walked Mrs. Thorpe. 
She had been hard at work for the soldiers 
in Alexandria, and we hardly expected to see 
her, although papa had written her an invita- 
tion. 

How I pitied her, and loved her ! What a 
still calm she had schooled herself to ! Her 
plain black dress made her look paler then 
ever, but she came in with a grace and ease 


2^8 


Six Little Rebels, 


which seemed to say : “ I have had my 
merry-makings, and I do not intend to sad- 
den yours.” 

I could have hugged Reggie for his care 
of her; he hardly left her for the evening, 
and she seemed as fond of “ our big boy ” as 
papa. 

Once, during the evening, the boys begged 
us for some music and I asked Cora to play, 
for I knew it would give dear Mrs. Thorpe 
a heart ache, to see me at the piano. 

She must have read my thought, for, put- 
ting her hand on mine, she said : 

“ My dear, play for your friends ; do not 
mind me, no one thing can recall an ever- 
present grief.” 

Then I played for the boys, trying very 
hard to think of pieces I had learned since 
Harry went away. 

It was a very merry evening. Col. Brent- 
ford taught us some Western games, and af- 
ter Mrs. Thorpe left, we had a little dancing. 
Never before did I see papa so gay; now. 


Lex Makes a Present, 2gg 

calling out to the ' colored musicians who 
were a trifle slow ; now, joking with the boys, 
or suggesting words for charades. 

The boys had planned to have me see my 
presents the last thing, in order to give Miss 
Lucinda time to arrange them on the library 
table, while we were all busy with music and 
games. I was glad enough I assure you, for, 
do what I would, the tears came into my 
eyes as I looked them all over, and I could 
only say : 

“ Papa, I wish you would speak for me, in- 
deed I can’t.” I always had a horror of 
books where people were melting into tears 
constantly, and then coming together again, 
and I was determined to go through it all 
^with only smiles, but tears do express joy, 
quite as often as smiles, I think. 

Lex helped me out wonderfully, — wicked 
little Lex, with his round bead-like eyes and 
white teeth, but first, I must tell you about 
the presents. Papa put his on with his own 
hands, — a lovely watch and chain, such a 


300 


Six Little Rebels, 


beauty, too! of course, I hugged him on the 
spot for it ; Major Birney, gave me a beauti- 
ful coral necklace ; Cora, a handsome Rus- 
sia-leather Bag; Mrs. Birney an exquisite 
picture of my own dear mother, painted on 
porcelain, from one she owned at the time of 
her marriage. I told her I could never 
thank her enough for that. The boys had a 
large album with their pictures in it, and on 
the fly leaf written. 

Cousin Dolly 

from her loving “ Rebels^ 

“ But you are not one of them,” said I to 
Dick, as I turned it over and found his 
saucy, handsome face. 

“Yes, I am,” he replied, “and don’t you 
dare to count me out.” 

I was very glad not to, and I was pleased 
to see that he had put it by the side of 
Bertie’s, for the little fellow was so fond of 


Lex Makes a Present, 


301 


the “ rollicking mad-cap,” as his father called 
him. 

Every one had something for me ; Dr. 
Miller gave me six solid silver spoons, “ for,” 
said he, “ girls in their teens should have 
something which they can use all their 
lives.” 

Mrs. Miller gave me a book of plates 
which she had ordered from London ; and 
even Col. Brentford had a gift, a beauty too, 
nothing more or less than a small American 
flag of pure silk, just long enough to hang 
over the door of the “ Woodbox.” Miss Lu- 
cinda, sensible and practical, presented me 
with a work-box, fitted up in excellent style ; 
and Aunt Axy, who put in her gay turbaned 
Lead to “ see how Miss Dolly liked ’em,” 
drew from under her apron a little jeweller’s 
box containing a silver thimble. 

“ Come Lex,” said Reggie, “ you have 
been telling all day that you had a right 
smart present all ready ; bring it in.” 


S02 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Yes, massa,” said Lex, going with a hop, 
skip and jump to the shed, and soon re- 
turning with a basket. 

“ Here ’tis. Miss Dolly ; golly, ain’t him 
hansum ! ” 

He raised the cover, and out jumped a 
pretty white bantam chicken. 

“ Oh Lex,” I said, after Dick had caught 
it, and brought it up for me to admire, 
“ where did you get it } ” 

“ Well, you see Miss Dolly, Miss Cindy 
she told me when I was gwine over with 
massa colonel’s letter to tote dis yer basket 
down to de ole woman you is always send- 
ing things to, and Miss Cindy said how I 
was not to let it go out of my hand till I 
come back, an’ I didn’t once. When I give 
the ole woman her loaf of bread, an de 
meat, I cum down long, an’ I see a boy, an’ 
he was a-watchin’ some chickens out in a 
little yard, an’ I asked him to get me one 
of those pretty ones, an’ I would give him 


Lex Makes a Present, joj 

five cents — I had five cents Miss Cora gave 
me yesterday ” — here he nodded to her. 

“Yes, I did,” said Cora. 

“ Well, he catch de chickun, and I paid 
him.” 

“ But Lex,” said papa, “ this chicken is 
worth more money. Did they belong to 
the boy } ” 

“ I reckon not, massa ; he said he didn’t 
live there, but he knowed de folks / ” 

“ Oh Lex ! Lex ! ” groaned Reggie. 

“ What shall we do with him ? ” said Miss 
Lucinda. 

The rest of us were laughing so we could 
not speak. 

Then papa explained and told him the 
little chick must be returned. Lex looked 
so woe-begone, I hastened to say : 

“ I will go with you. Lex, and perhaps 
we will see something I should like bet- 
ter.” 

So the day ended happily, but long after 


304 


Six Little Rebels, 


the boys had gone to their rooms, we could 
hear them laughing over my queer present, 
and every now and then Ned would crow 
so like a young bantam, that Cora and I 
shook with laughter. 


CHAPTER XXL 



THROWING PONTOONS. 

WAS very much afraid Chari would 
suffer from late hours, and dissipation 
on my birthday, but he came down to break- 
fast, and declared himself “ nearly sound.” 

“ That head will trouble him for a long 
time,” said Dr. Miller one day, and we found 
it was so, for he was often compelled to give 
up everything, and shut himself in a dark- 
ened room. The pain was terrible, he could 
not speak or be spoken to. 

Looking over the diaries again, I find an 


jo6 


Six Little Rebels. 


interesting account in Reggie’s, of the first 
pontoon bridge thrown across the Potomac 
during the war. 

“ The Engineer Brigade, commanded by 

the gallant Col A , was stationed on the 

eastern branch, and through our good friend. 
Dr. Miller, Dick, Dolly, Cora and myself 
were allowed to go. I don't think any of us 
knew what a pontoon was, but we were all 
eager to find out. 

“ When our carriage drove up to the col- 
onel’s headquarters, he came out in full uni- 
form to meet us, and told us Gen. McClellan 
was expected every moment. 

A few officers, and three or four ladies 
were present, but I did not care much for 
any of them, until an orderly called out to 
the colonel, while we were all sitting in his 
tent , “ The general is coming sir.” As he 
came down toward our group on horseback, 
I could not help thinking of Napoleon, but 
when he dismounted I was sorry he was not 
taller. He had only two or three of his 


Throwing Pontoons. 


307 


staff with him, and as he rode forward the 
men cheered him again and again. Mrs. Mil- 
ler greeted him warmly, and said: “Your 
soldiers love to do you honor general.” 

“ They are very kind madam, but I wish, 
the good fellows would reserve their cheers 
until I have earned them by hard work.” 

Dr. Miller’s reply was just the thing. 
“ Ah general,” said he, “ a battle is half 
won, when the troops have confidence in 
their leaders.” 

After an excellent collation we all went 
down to the river bank, and in a few mo- 
ments, boat after boat was put in position, 
and we were invited to walk out on the 
bridge thus formed. 

“This is pontoon throwing is it.?” said 
Dick, “ well Reggie, these men work like so 
much machinery, what a shame Walter is 
not here.” 

“ It is too bad,” I said, “ I wish he had 
taken my place.” Then Col. A. who heard 
our talk, said : “You can come again, young 


jo8 Six Little Rebels, 

gentlemen, and bring your friend ; my men 
have worked hard you may be sure, to work 
so well.” 

While we were talking, Gen. McClellan 
walked forward and stood on the very end of 
the little bridge, looking up and down the 
river, as if in thought. Presently two boats 
came out from the Navy Yard, and for the 
first time we saw and heard a naval salute. 

The whole thing was very pretty, and 
every one w’as so polite and kind, I thought 
we must be. seeing the best side of the war. 

Some one said the Engineer Brigade was 
noted for its orderly camp, and Dick and I 
were sure it must be so, for we went through 
the company-streets which were laid out like 
a little town, and when we were invited by 
the soldiers, we went inside of one or two of 
the tents and sat down. 

Mrs. Miller who knew Mrs. McClellan 
and was very fond of her, was having a little 
chat with the general, when we slipped 
away. By and by we heard her voice near 


Throwing Pontoons. 


309 


the tent where we were sitting. “ Oh, but 
you must obey, you know ; we all have to, 
and really, you wouldn’t like your wife, or 
sweet-heart, to see you now.” 

Dick and I went out. There was Mrs. 
Miller with Dolly by her side, talking to a 
soldier, who was marching up and down his 
company-street, dressed up with a gabion, a 
large, barrel-shaped thing made of coarse 
wicker, something like a heavy basket. 
These are filled with earth and piled one on 
top of another, to form what we call fortifi- 
cations, or breast-works. 

The poor fellow was inside of this cage, 
which rested on a stick over his shoulder, 
and he was ordered to walk all day, because 
he had disobeyed orders. 

Mrs. Miller’s kind heart was touched, and 
she walked up and down with him, urging 
him to avoid punishment in the future. 

“ That kind of talk will fetch him,” said 
one of the men, “ he’s stubborn as a mule, 
but kind hearted after all»” 


310 


Six Little Rebels, 


When Mrs. Miller had quite softened him, 
she went back to the colonel, and begged to 
have him forgiven. The colonel smiled : 

Mrs. Miller urged. 

“ Madame,” said he, “ if you were in my 
camp you would destroy all discipline.” 

“ Never colonel, I should make your men 
so good they would not require much.” 

The colonel’s eyes sparkled, but he said 
with a kind of trying-to-be-severe tone : 

“ Well, madam, it shall be done, but he 
must understand that you request it, and a 
second offence will meet with still more se- 
vere punishment. 

The poor man seemed glad enough to be 
free, and I am sure his comrades were right, 
when they said : “ you will never catch him 
in that scrape again.” 

How pleasant it is to recall all these 
things by reading the diaries ; how many lit- 
tle things will be remembered which are 
well worth remembering! and, as papa said, 
were “ making history,” 


Throwing Pontoons, jii 

For several weeks matters went on much 
as usual, with stories, one day of movements, 
and engagements, which were contradicted 
the next. 

All the newspapers were filled with “ On 
to Richmond,” and fault finding because the 
army did not move. 

“ Cousin Dolly, come here,” said Charlie, 
one morning, “look at this sight, and then 
wonder why the army does not go on to 
Richmond.” 

I looked from the window, and saw a gov- 
ernment bread wagon drawn by six mules ; 
the poor animals were floundering in mud 
up to their bellies, and on the leader rode a 
negro, urging them along, while his feet 
were curled up over the mule’s neck. This 
supply wagon was on its way to the station 
of the Signal Corps, on Georgetown 
Heights, and day after day, as we saw them 
toiling past, we felt that Dick was not very 
far out of the way when he wished “ some of 
the fault finders had to transport supplies 


312 


Six Little Rebels. 


for a week on their backs.” The mud was 
simply terrible in our streets, what could it 
be through open fields ? 

One day, Mrs. Miller took Cora and my- 
self with a nephew of the doctor’s, up to the 
signal station, and the officer kindly allowed 
us to call the attention of the officer on the 
Virginia side. 

It seemed very simple after all, and I felt 
quite proud, when by obeying instructions I 
had conveyed a message to the officer so far 
away. Mrs. Miller, who knew all about 
camp life, being the daughter of an army of- 
ficer, never visited one, without some little 
token of good will. Her basket of oranges 
and apples were most acceptable to men who 
were kept on the hill top, and seldom came 
down into the mud below. Before we 
started, Dr. Miller’s man had tied up his 
horses’ tails, and we were thankful he did so. 
In some places, the mud seemed so sticky 
and deep, I was afraid we should be held 
fast, and have to abandon the carriage, as we 


Throwing Pontoons, 


313 


had seen government wagons left one day 
in Maryland. 

We did very well, however, except Cora, 
who lost her overshoe when we got out, 
somewhere in the mud and could not find 
it. When the doctor’s nephew had finished 
his business, we drove slowly back, after 
giving Cora a view from the top of our 
reservoir, which all strangers think very 
beautiful. 

On reaching home we found papa had 
entertained quite a number of guests, among 
others, the owner of the bantam, which Lex 
had confiscated. 

The morning after my birthday I had 
kept my promise and gone with the boy. 
We had no trouble in finding the place, and 
I explained it to the woman as well as I 
could. She seemed very glad to get her 
little chick back, and quite forgave Lex 
when I told her he did not seem to know 
that it was wrong to buy a chicken worth 
fifty cents for five. She showed us some 


314 


Six Little Rebels, 


pretty rabbits which were only twenty-five 
cents each, and I told Lex one of those 
would be very nice for Bertie. 

He seemed so pleased with the idea I 
bought one after he had promised to feed 
it well. 

“ But I hasn’t got you no present, Miss 
Dolly, and de money is in my pocket, ’cause 
Massa Reggie say he don’t want Miss Dolly 
to be having noffin’ mean, an’ I say, no sah ! ” 

“ Well Lex,” said I, “ here is a store where 
they keep all kinds of things, even jewelry, 
shall we go in ? ” 

“ Yes miss.” 

“ I will turn my head away, and you may 
pick out for me anything you like and it 
shall be all your present.” 

If you were to guess a week, you could 
not find out what Lex selected, so I must 
tell you. A black doll, with woolly head, and 
grinning, white teeth. 

Lex was very wild over it. “ O, my eyes 
Miss Dolly, jis look at him ! looks like he jis 


Throwing Pontoons, 


315 


come from de Marmie Cloe place down 
home, jis you see him laff ! Got does on, 
Miss Dolly jis like white fellows, oh golly I 
but he’s hansum, te he, he, he.’* 



The little German shop-keeper was laugh* 
ing so over the boy’s pleasure, he did not 
notice his own baby who was staring at the 
darkey with mouth and eyes wide open. 


3i6 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Hi yi ! ” said Lex, growing more excited 
when he found I did not check him. “ I buy 
dis yere little picaninie, for you, shure, Miss 
Dolly.” 

“ I tink not,” said the shop-keeper, “ de 
young lady too fine, to blay mit de doll — 
dese will please her mooch.” 

He opened a case, and took out a tray full 
of charms for a lady’s chain, and showed 
them to the boy. For a few moments his 
eye rested on a little boat with oars in it, 
but he soon turned from it, to the black 
baby, saying: “No sah, ye see Miss Dolly 
she say I pick it out, and I pick him, dis 
yere bressed little baby; does ye see him 
laff. Miss Dolly.?” 

“ Yes, Lex, he looks very happy.” 

“ Den I buy him,” and the boy pulled 
from his trousers pocket the silver piece 
which Reggie had given him. 

So delighted was he with his purchase, he 
could not bear to have it rolled up in a pa- 
per and the good natured shop-keeper con- 


Throwing Ponioons, 


317 


sented to put it in a box for him. Never 
shall I forget the sport which followed. 

At dinner I told the family Lex had 
bought me a handsome present, but he did 
not care to have it opened until the fam- 
ily were all in, “’specially Massa Dick.” 

When evening came, and we were 
gathered about as usual in the study, Lex 
knocked at the door. 

“ Come in,” I said. “ Well, Lex, now you 
shall show my present, yourself.” With in- 
describable airs, he opened the box, and 
drew forth my treasure. 

“ Capital ! ” shouted Dick. 

“ What an idiot ! ” said Reggie, with 
scorn. 

“ He’s a beauty. Lex,” said Cora. 

“ Looks like one of slim Joe’s babies,” 
said Charlie to Walter. 

“ What a present ! ” exclaimed Ned. 

Lex began to feel uncomfortable; evi- 
dently his young “ gemmen ” did not 
value “ de hansum babv.” To comfort him 


Six Little Rebels. 


31S 

I said: “Well, Lex, you have as good a 
right to select your own present as any one. 
he is a real pretty baby, and I shall keep 
him until I am an old woman just to remem^ 
ber this night,” 

Lex was delighted. 

“ If he would only wink his eyes,” said lit- 
tle Bertie looking soberly at the doll, “ he 
would look like Lex,” whereupon every one 
laughed, and Lex hardest of all. 

When papa told us that Mrs. McLoughlin 
had called, I was very much distressed for 
fear Lex had been in mischief, but when he 
added she had come to tell us that a neigh- 
bor of hers had just bought several white 
bantams, and perhaps we would like to buy 
one or two, as the black boy seemed to feel 
so bad about it, I was relieved enough. 

“ Papa,” said I, “ don’t you think Lex would 
be less trouble if he had something more to 
do ? you know he had pigs and chickens to 
care for, and pet at home, and he is very 


Throwing Pontoons, 


319 

good to Bertie’s rabbit, I have half a mind 
to buy him a pair of bantams.” 

“ Not a bad idea, daughter,” said papa, 
“but I doubt very much if anything will 
keep the little rascal out of mischief.” 

Cora and I thought it would work well ; 
we used to have great talks in those days, 
about making people good, and Lex seemed 
to need a little missionary labor expended 
on him. 

The bantams were purchased, and a little 
warm coop made for them. 

Lex grew very proud of his pets, and our 
plan for keeping him out of mischief 
worked well, but the day Cora went away we 
went over to Washington and left him at 
home with Bertie ; when we returned they 
were nowhere to be found. Papa had been 
fast asleep ; Miss Lucinda said they were in 
the shed pounding on a toy drum of Ber- 
tie’s only a little while before, and Aunt Axy 
had not seen them for some time. 


320 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ You don’t think he would dare go away 
again with the child ? ” said Miss Lucinda 
quite frightened, to think she had not 
watched him better. “Yes,” said Reggie 
who never had much patience with the little 
rascal, “ he would dare do anything.” 

“ You take off your things and rest, 
Dolly,” said Charlie, “ the boys will find 
them and you know Lex will be sure to 
come home when he is hungry.” 

Papa urged, and I did as they wished, but 
it was then quite late in the afternoon and I 
was troubled about the child. 

I had just put away my hat, when Aunt 
Axy came in with a frightened face. “ It is 
wuss and wuss. Miss Dolly ; the little limb 
has carted off ’bout half a can of sweet 
crackers and my dried beef I had jis cut 
from twice.” 

“ Camping out,” I exclaimed, “ his head is 
full -)f it” 


CHAPTER XXII. 



A RAID ON THE POTOMAC. 

HAT shall we do uncle ? ” asked Reg- 
gie, as he and Dick went into the 
study after a long fruitless walk. Ned and 
Walter had not returned. Chari was nerv- 
ous and troubled. 

“ What did Col. Brentford say } ” asked 
■papa. 

“No one had seen them there; he thinks 
they are nearer home.” 

“ Oh, dear,” said I, “ if I had not gone to 


322 


Six Little Rebels. 


the station with Cora, this would not have 
happened.” 

“ Don’t blame yourself for everything,” 
said Chari, “ especially with that little rascal. 
Mamma always said he needed watching, 
but he was very bright.” 

“ Col. Brentford thinks a night or two in 
the guard house would do Lex good,” said 
Dick. 

“ Six would be none too many. Arnold 
was opposed to his coming with us, but 
Aunt Allie favored it,” said Reggie, “she 
was always rather fond of the little imp.” 

“ And here was Dolly telling only yester- 
day, how much he had improved,” said Wal- 
ter. 

Yes, I had been growing proud of my 
dark pupil, but he was not to be trusted ; 
like Cora’s pony, he had evidently been get- 
ting ready for mischief. 

“ Dick,” said I, “ it is impossible to sit still 
here, I feel sure they are camping out some 
where; let us go out once more,” 


A Raid on the Potomac. 


323 


“ Where ? ” said Dick. 

“ Down by the old bridge,” I said, “ Lex 
and Bertie have a fondness for the water.” 

“ But my dear child,” said papa, “ our 
friend the colonel can do more with his men 
in ten minutes, than a young girl in an 
hour.” 

“ Perhaps so, papa, but I must try. I 
have heard the children talk so much about 
soldiers, and camps, indeed, they have played 
it so often in my room, I cannot help think- 
ing I shall find them. Don’t let us give up, 
and wait.” 

“ Dolly is right,” said Ned, “come on Reg- 
gie, we will go over to the brooks and let 
Dolly and Dick try the river once more.” 

I put on some rubber boots and started 
with Dick. Once, we thought of turning 
back to get a lantern, but I remembered the 
glass was broken to ours, and Dick said he 
had smashed theirs trying to get it up to the 
top of their flag staff. We floundered on in 
the darkness, through mud, and mire, until 


Six Little Rebels, 


324 

we reached the bridge. The sentinel was 
pacing up and down. 

“We wish to send a message to Col. B. of 
Michigan,” I said. 

“ Yes miss.” 

He blew a whistle, and a soldier appeared, 
coming out of a little sentry box. Then we 
suddenly remembered that a verbal message 
would not do. 

“ Hold on,” said Dick, pulling an old let- 
ter from his pocket and writing rapidly on 
the envelope, “ give this to him.” 

What he wrote, I do not know, but we 
walked up and down for some time, all the 
while talking, and I, not hearing half he 
said. 

Presently we heard voices, and I strained 
my eyes in the direction of the camp. 

“You here. Miss Warrington, and on such 
a cold night ! ” said the colonel. 

I did not answer him, only said impa- 
tiently, “ colonel, can’t your men find them ? ” 


A Raid on the Potomac, 


325 


“ I am afraid not ; they could not cross 
the bridge ; the sentinels would not let them 
pass. The colonel of the — Mass., has kindly 
sent out scouts, and yet I am quite sure they 
must be on your side of the river.” 

“We have searched everywhere,” I said. 

While we stood pondering what to do the 
sentinel came up and saluted. 

“ I was thinking, sir, perhaps the lads 
might have stole a ride in some of the 
wagons ; a good many crossed this afternoon 
before I came on duty.” 

“Yes, to be sure,” I exclaimed, “when 
they played camp, I remember Lex always 
said, “ now we must go with our baggage in 
a guv’ment wagon.” 

“ Will you walk over to our camp Miss 
Warrington, and let us enquire ? ” 

“ Yes anything, anywhere, to find Bertie,” 
I said, “ and never again will we trust him 
with that dreadful boy.” 

We went over, and Dick sat with me in 


326 


Six Little Rebels. 


the colonel’s tent while he went out to con- 
sult with the commanding officer of a Massa- 
chusetts regirhent near by. 

After some time, he returned saying he 
believed we might discover them yet, for one 
of the teamsters said when he reached this 
side, he found it hard to get up through the 
deep ruts, and while the mules were kicking 
about, out rolled a little darkey; didn’t see but 
one though. He asked him what he was do- 
ing there, and he said his massa sent him 
with a note to Col. Brentford, so he let him 
go off, and didn’t mind where he went. 

“ Oh Dick,” I said, “ he has lost Bertie, I 
am sure, how could he be alone } ” 

“ Don’t worry. Miss Warrington, we shall 
find them now somewhere,” said the colonel, 
“ keep as warm as you can in my quarters, 
while I go out to see how the men progress 
who are searching the wagons.” 

The wagons were searched in every direc- 
tion, but no children appeared. 


A Raid on the Potomac, 


327 


“ Couldn’t be in the major’s tent, could 
they ? ” said a little officer, belonging to the 
— Mass. “ I remember hearing voices there, 
and thought it was strange, for he had gone 
to town.” 

Col. Brentford sprang forward and went 
in ; then stepping back quickly, he said : 

“ Orderly, ask Miss Warrington and the 
young gentleman to step this way.” 

I almost ran, stumbling and bumping 
along after Dick and the orderly. 

When Col. Brentford lifted the canvas, I 
nearly screamed. There was Bertie, our 
poor, delicate “baby,” as we loved to call 
him, fast asleep on the major’s rubber 
blanket, with nothing over him but a red 
plaid shawl which I recognized at once as 
Miss Lucinda’s. 

Lex was not to be seen at first, but pres- 
ently we discovered a woolly head sticking 
out of a U. S. blanket and its owner was fast 
asleep too. 


3 ^^ 


Six Little Rebels. 


“Wake him up;” I said, “the wicked 
boy ! and here is my beautiful bag Cora 
gave me ; he ran away with that too.” 

“Yes,” said Dick, “ that has evidently been 
his knapsack, and here are the commissary 
stores.” 

Several of the officers laughed outright, 
when Dick pulled out the dried beef, and 
some crackers. 

“ Do wake him,” said I, “ we must get 
back ; think of papa and the boys. Col. 
Brentford.” 

“ An ambulance will be ready in a few mo- 
ments, Miss Warrington,” said one of the 
Massachusetts officers. They were all very 
kind, and I felt it, but I hardly knew how 
to say so before so many, so I whispered to 
Dick. 

“ Miss Warrington wishes to thank you 
all for the trouble you have had, and for 
your great kindness,” said Dick, turning to 
the officers, who had gathered in the major’s 
tent. 


A Raid on the Potomac, 

Very soon we were homeward bound, not 
however until we had roused Lex, and made 
him tell us his story. He was not a whit 
disturbed, but evidently regarded himself as 
quite a hero. 

“ I wanted to camp out, and so did Massa 
Bertie. I took Miss Dolly’s bag to hang on 
my back like the soljers, and Miss Cindy’s 
shawl was de blanket, 1 didn’t want to go 
home, an’ Massa Bertie he did’nt cry only 
little, for Miss Dolly ; but when I tole him 
soljers nebber cried, he stop right up.” 

“ If you will allow me to advise,” said Col. B., 
“ I should suggest leaving this chap here for 
to-night ; while you get home as soon as pos- 
sible, with your little charge.” 

We agreed with him ; and I was only too 
glad to get into the ambulance, and take 
little Bertie in my arms. He did not waken 
even with the terrible jolting, only to call, 
“ Dolly ; ” and when I said, “ yes, dear, Dolly 
is here,” he nestled down, and did not speak 
again until we had him safe at home. 


330 


Six Little Rebels. 


When the family heard all we had to tell, 
Reggie was so tried with Lex he said he 
should never again have the care of his lit- 
tle brother. 

Papa said that Lex was full of adventure ; 
he was crazy to be in the midst of hubbub, 
and he thought it would be a good idea to 
send him off for a few weeks. 

Poor little Bertie did not escape this time 
as he had done before. A heavy cold settled 
on his lungs, and Reggie said he never heard 
him cough without wanting to choke that 
little black rascal. 

Lex did not come back. The next day. 
Col. Brentford sent a note to papa and the 
essence of it was, that he had talked with 
Alexis and found him a hard subject, not fit 
to be the companion of a tender, imaginative 
child, like Bertie, if papa was quite willing, 
he would exchange with him, and send over 
Smith, a likely colored boy who was honest, 
and helpful, although slower than young 


A Raid on the Potomac. 


331 


Lex. Papa readily consented, and, soon 
after, Smith appeared. Gen. Scott rested in 
peace ; Aunt Axy was no longer tormented, 
and poor little Bertie gave up his travels. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 



DOLLY IS SICK. 

HE cold tramp, and worry over the 
children, proved too much for me, and 
as I cannot remember all that happened, I 
shall let the boys tell most of the story. 

I was determined not to be sick, and for 
two or three days I kept on with my lessons, 
and went down to the hospital, just as I had 
always done, until one day, I could not see 
for the pain in my eyes, and when I tried to 
dress for breakfast, I fell back on the bed, 
sick and faint. 


332 


Dolly is Sick, jjj 

“ Bertie, ask Miss Lucinda to come,” I 
said, as soon as I could speak. The little 
fellow called her, and she soon had me in 
bed, where I shivered, and shook for an 
hour, before a high fever came on. Oh it 
was so wretched being cooped up when I 
had so much to do, and papa needed me 
so much ! 

“ Miss Lucinda,* can’t you ask Dr. Miller 
to step in without letting papa know. ^ he 
would give me something, and I could 
soon get down-stairs,” I said laughingly. 

“ It is my opinion,’’ said she, curtly, “ that 
you will just keep still, and be taken care of ; 
as to Dr. Miller, I dare say he will come.” 

As soon as she left the room I tried once 
more to get up, but it was impossible. I 
ached from head to foot, and I crawled back 
to my bed, at last convinced that I must be 
sick. 

In half an hour Dr. Miller came; he was 
very kind, and gentle. 


334 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Caged at last, are you, little Birdie ? ” he 
said, taking one of my hot hands in his. 

“ Oh, doctor,” I said, “ can’t you get me 
well quick ? I was never sick before since I 
was a baby, and papa can’t spare me.” 

He took a little vial from his pocket, 
dropped something into a tumbler, and gave 
it to me, holding up my throbbing, thump- 
ing head, with his own hands. 

“ Now, Birdie,” he said, — that was his pet 
name for me — “ you must listen, you are a 
sensible soul, and I will talk to you honestly. 
If you are. very careful, we may fight off ty- 
phoid, if not, — look out ! 

“You must keep here in this bed, until I 
tell you to get up ; you must take it for 
granted that your little world will go on 
without you although not half so well, you 
must take all the beef tea, and good things 
I order, and then I hope papa will have his 
housekeeper down-stairs in a few days — 
Will you promise Birdie } ” 

It seemed easy enough to promise him. 


Dolly is Sick. 


335 


while his hand was brushing my hair softly, 
and his calm, pleasant voice was in my ears, 
but when he had gone, I began to worry 
about Bertie, to wonder if Reggie would go 
to papa, to think of the men at the hospital, 
and my music lesson. Oh dear, it was so 
hard to be sick ! 

The pain in my head grew so bad I could 
not keep still, and it seemed to me that all 
the wagons in the street, and all the noise of 
the house was inside of it. By and by the 
door opened, and there was papa with Reg- 
gie and Dr. Miller helping him into his 
chair. “ He would come,” said Dr. Miller, 
“ and I think you had better keep him up 
here for a day or two.” They rolled hi^ 
chair up to the bedside, and then left u*i 
alone. 

“ My darling,” said he, “ I wish I could 
save you from this, but my brave little gir[ 
will be patient, and we will soon have hei 
about again.” 

“ I am not very sick papa, only tired, so 




Six Little Rebels, 


tired I can’t think, and my bones ache so ! 
Do you know, I never thought I had bones 
before.” 

“ Suffering has never made you conscious 
of a body, dear.” 

After a time, I opened my eyes again, and 
saw papa writing with his study table before 
him ; then Miss Lucinda brought something 
which she called beef tea, but it did not 
taste like anything, and the person who 
drank it, did not seem to be myself — Dolly. 
They all did just as they pleased with me, 
and I let them ; I knew when people came 
and went, I knew they were trying to keep 
my room very still, and it rested me to have 
papa so near, but I could not talk, even 
when I heard their questions. 

Dr. Miller came in often, and I know he 
kissed me on my forehead, but I seemed to 
go to sleep after that, and must read what 
Reggie said about it in his diary. 

“ Dolly is sick, and the house seems 
turned upside down. Everybody mopes. 


Dolly is Sick, 


337 


They keep her room very quiet, and uncle 
stays there all the time. Dr. Miller says he 
hopes they will prevent a settled fever. Yes- 
terday, Miss Lucinda and I moved Bertie’s 
bed into my room, and Dolly shall not have 
him again, I did not know he was so restless 
nights ; poor girl, she must have had a hard 
time of it ! Dick comes in half a dozen 
times a day, and his mother is devoted to 
Dolly. Uncle is so very quiet I cannot 
bear to look at him although when I carry 
up his tray he never fails to say, ‘ Ah Reg- 
gie, one more thing to thank you for, — or, 
Reggie, my boy, we could not get on with- 
out you.’ It is poor comfort to me when 
I know Dolly took this dreadful cold look- 
ing for my brother. Dr. Miller says she 
has been over-doing for a long time. I 
suppose he means since we came. I 
wouldn’t care if there was anything we 
could do.” 

Poor Reggie ! he was growing morbid un^ 
der his worries. 


Six Little Rebels. 


33S 

Ned writes in a different strain, for Ned 
was a Mark Tapley for jollity. 

“ Poor dear Dolly is up-stairs sick, bless 
her ! I peeped in through the door to-day, 
and saw her ; she looks like a picture with 
her waving hair, and rosy cheeks. Uncle 
says she is doing very well, and we need not 
be worried she has such a good constitution. 
Chari frets all the time because we cannot 
do anything for her, although he looks after 
her bird and flowers every day. 

“ Walter has been busy making her a bed- 
rest something like uncles ; and Reggie is a 
regular old hen, clucking around after Bertie.” 

“ He sleeps in our room now, and I suppose 
it is right to look after your brothers, and all 
that, but it isn’t nice just the same, when 
they wake up in the night, and howl for 
cousin Dolly, or a drink.” 

“ Dick is a jewel ; he is in and out at all 
hours, always bright and funny. It does not 
seem possible, that we have only known 
them since the war, they are so good, — the 


Dolly is Sick. 


339 


Millers, I mean, — Mrs. Miller is real young, 
and as jolly as Dick ; she often sits with us 
evenings when Dolly is sleeping.” 

At last, after nearly two weeks I was able 
to sit up and receive calls. Reggie was like 
another boy when he saw me in the large 
chair. I think he really fancied I would die. 
He told me about the men in the hospital, 
and gave me a little reel for silk which an 
artilleryman had made for me, since he 
heard I was sick. 

Walter’s bed-rest proved very useful, and I 
often sat propped up with it, before I could 
sit in my chair. 

Chari thought it his place to sit by me, 
and wait upon me, and the rest knew he 
would like to do as I had done for him. 
When Dick came, I was delighted to see 
him. His mother was sitting with me and 
papa had been carried down-stairs to attend 
to his neglected duties there. 

The first thing I heard was : 


Six Little Rebels, 


340 


“ By the pricking of my thumbs, 

Something evil this way comes.” 

And in walked Dick. 

He stopped a moment, and seemed sur- 
prised to see me looking so thin ; then he 
came forward, and took both hands in his. 

“ Mother,” said he, “ do you hold on to her 
all the time, to keep her from blowing 
away } ” 

“ Not quite,” said Mrs. Miller. 

“ Dolly, I am jubilant ! it is a feast for 
sore eyes to see you even in the picked- 
chicken style.” 

“And I am glad too, Dick, you have all 
been so good to me I don’t know what to 
say, I never was sick before.” 

“ No, I suppose not, but couldn’t you 
manage, Dolly, to be content with this expe- 
rience } couldn’t you ‘ slow down ’ a little, 
and not get up any more raids into Dixie 1 ” 

“ Dick, if you tease I shall put you out,” 
said his mother. 

“ Never felt less like it in my life, mother ; 


Dolly is Sick, 


3^1 


the fact is, we had a time of it, searching for 
those young rebels — and I was to blame for 
letting Dolly expose herself so.” 

“ Hush Dick,” I said, “ no one was to 
blame but Lex. Tell me about him, please, 
Reggie doesn’t want to hear him mentioned.” 

“ Didn’t he tell you what Colonel Brent- 
ford said ? ” 

“Not a word.” 

“ Well, when he told the little darky that 
he was never coming to see us all any more, 
— I say us, Dolly, for I want to be counted 
in, you know.” 

“ Yes Dick,” I said, “you shall always be 
counted in, after that terrible night.” 

“ Do you hear that, mother ? always, re- 
member, you are a witness.” 

“ Go on, Dick,” I said laughing. 

“ Well, when he told him. Lex cried, and 
bellowed as if he had beaten him ; while he 
was doing the operatic, in fine shape, the 
colonel called to his orderly : 

“ I want you to take this boy to the bar 


342 


Six Little Rebels. 


bers and have his head shaved ; then go to 
the store, where we called for men and boy’s 
clothing, and pick him out a good strong 
suit of clothes ; these are not fit for camp 
life.” Lex sprang up at once and shouted, 
“ Oh, massa colonel please tell him shiny but- 
tons, real shiny buttons like yours, I don’t 
want to go back, no sah. I’ll jis stay an’ be 
your boy forever, ’deed I will.” “ Well, well, 
order shiny buttons, ’’said the colonel to the 
orderly, whereupon Lex danced round like a 
young baboon and never thought again of 
the friends who had done so much for him.” 

“ Ungrateful little wretch!” said Miss Lu- 
cinda who had been listening to the story. 
“Just think of the hours, I have spent 
mending his clothes, and here is Miss Dolly 
who has been teaching him every day, as if 
he were a gentleman.” 

“ I am glad he is gone now, however,” 
said I, “ for I was always in terror for fear he 
would get into mischief of some sort.” 

When I was well enough to get down- 


Dolly is Sick, 


343 


stains, I went into the kitchen and asked 
Aunt Axy how she liked the new boy. 

“ Oh, he’s folks^ he is ; minds his work, 
and doesn’t give no sass.” 

“ And what of Lex 1 ” said I. 

“ Miss Dolly,” said the old lady, solemnly, 
“ I ’clar to gracious, I is that riled when I 
think of the ongrateful varmint, I jist want 
to wallop him ! such cuttins up, as he would 
have in dis yere house ! he tried my soul, 
deed he did.” 

“ You should have complained to us.” 

“Complained! Does ye think I has nothin’ 
but growls for you and yer pa, bout a shift- 
less nio:ger.f^ No miss; but I fixed him one 
time good.” Aunt Axy rolled her hands up 
in her large apron, and chuckled. 

“ Tell me about it,” I said. 

“Ye see, Miss Lucinda, she told him one 
day, if he didn’t behave better she’d tell 
mas.sa, and thin he sassed her, a spell 
through the door, but he darsn’t come in ye 
see. When she went up-stairs he came 


344 


Six Little Rebels. 


round sassing me, and when I stood it long 
enough, an he stuck his head in again, I jis 
up with my soft-soap bowl, and let it fly 
right in his face ; he spit an’ sputtered, like 
a mad cat, but he stopped his sass.” 



Poor old woman ! the little rascal • must 
have troubled her. 

Smith proved a very valuable servant, and 
it seemed a pity to take him from the colonel- 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

“a corned pig.” 

NE evening after I was 
quite strong and well, I 
found a cork screw note 
on my plate at supper, and 
on opening it, I read as 
follows : 

“The pleasure of your 
company is requested in the kitchen, at 
7:30 P.M.” 

“ Now, what mischief ? ” said I. 

“ Nothing, cousin Dolly, nothing wrong, 

345 



Six Little Rebels, 


34 (> 

Miss Lucinda will tell you so, but you must 
accept.” 

Papa’s note was precisely like mine, and 
we agreed to accept. 

“ Don’t come t(io early,” said Ned, “ that 
will spoil the fun.” 

To my surprise. Dr. and Mrs. Miller were 
invited, and both came promptly. When we 
reached the kitchen, we laughed outright. 
The boys all had on paper caps such as 
cooks wear, and Dick had an enormous 
white apron of Aunt Axy’s, tied about his 
waist. He stood with Reggie, in the middle 
of the floor, and waved his hand towaird some 
chairs. ^ 

“Welcome, ladies, and gentlemen; wel- 
come ! ” said Reggie. 

“ Right-loyal welcome, fair Princess,” said 
Dick, making a grand bow, which wound the 
apron about his long legs. 

Chari was seated on a corner of the large 
kitchen table, picking over a pan of pop corn 
which Walt and Ned were filling as fast as 


A Corjied Pigl 


347 


possible, each armed with a popper. Bertie, 
dear little man, was shelling corn from the 
cobs, and Aunt Axy was stirring a basin of 
“ taffy,” or molasses candy. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said Dick, after 
we were seated, “it is my pleasant task, 
ahem! — to — ahem! — welcome you, ahem!” 

“ Dick,” said his mother, “ let poor Mr. 
Marks alone, and talk like yourself.” 

Dick straightened himself up. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen, the noble lady 
requests me to talk like myself, I forbear, 
being somewhat lengthy, you might be 
weary,” 

“ Better let him alone,” whispered papa to 
Mrs. Miller. 

“We deal to-night, ladies and gentle- 
men,” — this was uttered in a deep voice, to 
imitate Charles Sumner, and so well was it 
done, we all recognized the hit, then in- 
stantly changing it to a high key, often 
adopted by speakers in the House of Repre- 
sentatives, he added, — “ with that noble ani- 


34^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


mal of historic fame, vulgarly called the pig. 
Charles Lamb immortalized it as Roast Pig, 
but we will present it in a sweeter and more 
toothsome form. It has been said by some 
extinguished wit, ” — here Dick put his 
thumbs in his vest, scowled, and talked rap- 
idly, imitating a well known Senator, — “ ‘ that 
a rose by any other name would smell as 
sweet.’ Ladies and gentlemen, this is not 
always true of the pig. I assert it, sir, not 
always true ; for it is my purpose to prove to 
you, that no sweeter pig ever existed than 
our pig, and you may call it by its own 
name. Let us examine this matter carefully, 
as becomes statesmen,” — here his voice was 
again changed, and he pressed his fore fin- 
gers together as if attempting to prove a 
very important point. 

“ Take, if you please, the first letter of his 
name — P — ah ! how^ many precious, pretty, 
poetical associations cluster about that one 
letter and its curl is just as graceful, whether 
it begins putty or peace. Then there is — I — ” 


A Corned Pig. 


349 


here Dick’s pompous manner caused every 
one to scream with laughter. 

“ The boy is a genius,” whispered papa to 
Mrs. Miller. His father laughed until the 
tears rolled down his face, and Miss Lucinda 
said over and over again : 

“ Well, I never ! ” 

As for me, I could not take my eyes from 
him, for one moment, although I laughed 
with the rest. 

“ The power of I is indescribable. It has 
won elections, and women’s hearts ; it has 
paraded for years in Congress, and staid 
quietly at home ; it is the beginning of 
things invisible, and in Latin or English 
means only /. 

“ Then there is 6^., what a curling, graceful 
letter it is ! how deceitful too ! looking so 
modest in goodness, so lordly in grand, and, 
so commonplace in grunt. It is a wonderful 
letter, ladies and gentlemen, and p — i — g — 
is a remarkable word. Still more remarka- 
ble will be the one which it is our purpose to 


350 


Six Little Rebels, 


present to you. It may not be a lamb-like 
pig but it will be eatable from the end of its 
pouting lips, to the tip of its curling tail. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen I invite you to 
witness the ceremony.” 

Dick rolled up his sleeves, washed his 
hands, and proceeded to take the basin of 
boiling syrup from Aunt Axy. Reggie 
stood ready with a large spoon. 

In a few moments they had poured the 
hot liquid over the crisp white kernels, which 
Chari had so carefully separated from the 
“ old maids,” and while we were still laugh- 
ing over the capital burlesque Dick had just 
given us, the five boys began to manufacture 
out of the mass, some very nice corn balls. 

“ Chari,” called papa, as he stood waiting 
his turn to dip in the large pan. 

“Yes sir.” 

“ Come here, one moment. Did Dick 
write his speech ? ” 

“No, sir, no indeed; it was all done in a 
moment. You see our molasses took so 


A Corned Pig ': 


long to boil, we were not quite ready when 
we heard you coming, so Reggie asked Dick 
to talk a few minutes to fill up the time.*’ 

“ Capital,” said papa, “ capital.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” said Mrs. Miller, 
looking with loving eyes at her handsome 
boy, “ I am sometimes afraid his powers of 
mimicry will exceed the bounds of courtesy.” 

“ Never,” said papa, “with you to keep it 
in check, until he is old enough to use a lit- 
tle caution. His command of language ap- 
pears to me quite wonderful.” 

“ That is largely owing to early training. 
When very small, he attended a school 
where every pupil was obliged to express 
himself in his own words, and the use and 
meaning of every word was taught. I be- 
lieve in it thoroughly.” 

When a platter of balls was ready, Dick 
took a large tray and began placing them in 
order, with the aid of a little hot syrup ; and 
in a few minutes, a good sized pig stood be- 
fore us, with a corn cob stuck under its nose 


352 


Six Little Rebels, 


and a curly tail made by sticking single 
kernels together. The likeness was excel- 
lent and of all the laughing party none 
laughed longer or louder than little Bertie. 



“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said Dick, “ be- 
hold, a well corned pig ! ” 

Then we ate it up, and finished the even- 
ing with games, and stories. 


Corned Pig! 


353 


Dr. Miller said when he went out, that 
never had he enjoyed a frolic so much since 
he was the age of his own mischievous boy. 

“ Good night, father,” called Dick, “ if you 
wouldn’t mind, you might pay my board for 
this quarter, before you go.” 

“ It is quite time, I think,” said the doctor, 
“ for I am sure you spend more hours here, 
than at home.” 

“ Never too many for us,” said papa. 

“No indeed,” I added. 

“We must make the most of our friends 
while we have them,” said Mrs. Miller; 
“ these are unsettled days.” 

“Yes, yes,” said papa, “let them get all 
they can out of the days together, they will 
not last forever.” 

I thought of Harry Thorpe. 

Dr. and Mrs. Howard had been called 
away only a few days before, he on duty for 
the government, and she as she said, “on 
duty for him.” Changes were constantly 
taking place about us and we young ones 


Six Little Rebels, 

felt it quite as much as our elders. The 
news from Mrs. Neville was encouraginr, 
but from Richmond only rumors, which wor- 
ried Reggie until he was as blue as a jay. 

Papa always hoped, and would try to 
cheer him up by saying : 

“ Count your blessings, my boy, count 
your blessings. If you are in a tight place 
or a dark corner, don’t make it worse by 
brooding over it, but think of the things you 
have to be thankful for.” 

Col. Brentford was soon ordered into the 
field, and as the days moved rapidly aw^ay, 
we found it was time to hear from him. 

These were the days when we boys and 
girls lived a year in a week ; and took as 
much interest in every movment of the 
troops as the veterans who had been under 
fire. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A REPENTANT DARKY. 

* ^E day when we were all seated at 
he dinner-table, papa drew from the 
little pocket of his rolling chair, a letter, 
which he said would do well for dessert. 

“ From whom ? ” I asked. 

“ A gentleman who left us not long ago, 
and who was very kind to some tramps of 
mine one chilly night.” 

“ Oh, Col. Brentford. Is he quite well? ” 

“ You shall hear presently.” 


355 


35 ^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


The boys hurried down their dinners, boy 
fashion, for they were all fond of the colonel. 

As soon as Smith had finished his duties 
and left the room, papa began to read. 

“ Headq’rs. on the Pamunkey.” 

“ Where in the world is that ? ” said 1. 

“ Get out your map of Virginia when I 
have done, and hunt it up,” said papa. 

“ I know,” exclaimed Reg, but papa went 
on : 

“ Dear doctor, and friends at the ‘ Wood- 
box ^ 

“ I will try to keep my promise under ad- 
verse circumstances. We came here two 
days since, and our supply trains have not 
arrived, consequently the men are growling. 
I dare say you know more about our move- 
ments than we do, for we go blindly on, as 
we are ordered, and often think there is ter- 
rible blundering somewhere. The sooner 
this government makes up its mind that it 
has a powerful foe to contend with, the better 
it will be for us. But enough. 


A Repentant Darky. 


357 


“Your Lex is a study, I wish Miss War- 
rington could see him now ; the little darkey 
is nearly frightened to death, and all the 
brass buttons in camp, cannot keep him from 
feeling homesick. 

“ As luck would have it, we were ordered to 
an important post as soon as we arrived, and 
in the scrimmage I was so unfortunate as to 
have my right arm hurt a little. Lex was 
nearly wild at the sight of blood, — actually 
gave up and was sick. Our surgeons call it 
an attack of ‘ white liver fever,’ and hint 
that it sometimes seizes on whites as well as 
blacks. 

“ Tell Miss Warrington I am now writing 
with my left hand, a trick which I practised 
at school, little dreaming that the broad 
right one would be useless some day. But, 
to return to Lex. 

“ The other day he came to me when I was 
writing and hung about for some time, look- 
ing very forlorn. ‘ Well, Lex,’ I said ‘ what 
is it ? ’ 


Six Little Rebels, 


35S 

“ * Is you writin’ to massa doctor, sah ? ’ 
‘ No, Lex, writing home.’ 

“ ‘ Would you be writin, to de doctor and 
de young gemmen some day ? ” 

‘“Yes, Lex, very soon; do you wish to 
send a message } ’ 

“ ‘ I would like to write my own self, sah. 
Miss Dolly she teached me how.’ 

Very well. Lex, here are pencil and pa- 
per, do your best’ He went off very happy 
and brought me the enclosed note as the re- 
sult of his efforts. 

“ I often think with gratitude of the pleas- 
ant home life^ which you permitted me to 
share in Georgetown, the only pleasure of the 
kind I have had, since leaving my own home. 

“ If it is our good fortune to meet once 
more I hope it will be in my power to return 
kindness for kindness. 

“ With kind regards for every member of 
the family, not forgetting my boy Smith, I am 
“ Most truly y’rs, 

“Wm. Brentford.” 


A Repentant Darky. J5p 

“ J ust like him,” said Reggie, “ he is a 
splendid fellow.” 

“ I am sure he never allowed a day to go 
by without remembering us,” said Chari, 
“just think of the flowers for Dolly, and the 
gimcracks for Bertie.” 

“ I should like it better if he had said 
something more about the scrimmage^ said 
Walter. 

After every one had made some comments 
on the letter, we were all so glad to receive, 
papa opened the other, — a blurred, blotted, 
dirty note addressed in this wise : 

“ Mr. dockter Warrintun Gorgtun. d. c. 

“ Deer Sur. I Have akted awfull bad and I 
am sorry. Mr dockter if you will plez too 
lett me Kum Horn I will Bee a good Dooti- 
full Boy and Mind yur Ordurs 

“Yurs Humble 
“ Survant 


ALeXis; 


Six Little Rebels, 


360 

“ The Bullits hits round here an Magur 
Prays boy he sayed I wud git hit caus they 
Kin see my IZe so Far.” 

How we all laughed. 

“ Well daughter,” said papa, “ your pupil 
has done wonders.” 

“ She tried hard enough to teach him,” 
said Miss Lucinda. 

“ That’s a fact,” added Chari. 

“ Show it to Dick ! ” shouted Bertie, “ keep 
it ’till Dick comes.” 

“ He shall see it, dear,” said I, “ and now 
papa, if you please, I will go out and read 
this wonderful epistle to Aunt Axy ; the 
good soul was terribly tried with that boy.” 

Out I went, with all the boys but Reggie 
following. Aunt Axy was very busy scour- 
ing tins, but stopped at once and heard me 
read Lex’s letter through ; then with her face 
shining she said : 

“ Scared ! dat’s what he is ; scared mos’ 
out o’ his life, I tole him so, I tole him.” 

“ What aunty } ” 


A Repentant Darky. j6t 

“ Well, ye see, Miss Dolly, one night when 
I was kind o’ tellin him bout dese yer goins 
on o’ his at prayer time an’ sich, sez he, pert 
as could be : ‘ Now, marmy, what’s de good 
of all dese yer prayers ? de Lord he make 
us an’ he kin take care on us an’ we needn’t 
min’ bout his work.’ 

“ I’d dare. Miss Dolly, I was jiss mos’ choked 
with sich blasspheemerin ; but he jiss kep’ 
on sassin’ roun’ here a spell, an’ I tell him to 
stop, if he didn’t min’ ’bout his prayers de 
Lord ’ud put dat black skin o’ his in sich a 
tight place he’d be berry glad to pray to git 
out ; an’ now Miss Dolly he’s thar for shure.” 

“ But you know we don’t always get all we 
pray for, aunty,” said I. 

“ Shure nuff, honey, shure nuff, jiss you 
min’ dis yere. He nebber slumbers, nor 
sleeps, an’ ye don’t s’pose he’s agwine to an- 
swer what we asks for when we’s sleep half 
our time? Nebber honey! you jiss pray an’ 
pray an’ de Lord he jiss whispers to hiselt 


362 


Six Little Rebels, 


‘ now dat ar chile, she see only de beginnin’, 
an’ I knows what’s good for her.’ ” 

I always loved to hear Aunt Axy talk 
about such things for she was so good and 
sincere you couldn’t help thinking she was a 
true Christian ; sometimes, I did not quite 
understand her, but very often she helped 
me out of a mental puzzle. 

“ But aunty,” said I, “ how can we tell 
when we are right ? I am sure I prayed and 
prayed when papa was hurt that he might 
get well and still he suffers.” 

“ Miss Dolly,” said the old woman, point- 
ing her fat fore-finger at me, ‘ you has 
heaps o’ things to learn. How does you 
know that your pa’s ’flickshuns ain’t de berry 
best kind o’ gettin’ well ? Ef he was a stout, 
hearty man like he was ’fore dat night, does 
you s’pose he’d be sittin’ here so patient 
teachin’ an’ workin’ for dese yere orfin chil- 
dren makin’ ’em all good, ebery bressed day ? 

“ Does you ’spose you own self ’ud be so 
settled like an’ kind to de pore little fellow 


A Repentant Darky, j6j 

dere wid his arms roun’ ye, if you hadn’t 
been ’flickted yer own self ? ” 

“ I am afraid not, aunty,” I said, giving 
Bertie a little hug, “ but it bothers me, when 
I can’t see my way out of a trouble, and we 
may pray all we like, it don’t seem any 
clearer.” 

“ Persisely, Miss Dolly, persisely, ’cause 
you jiss sees half way through dis yere walk 
were a takin’, and de Lord he sees de end, 
clar through, an’ he jiss brings us right out 
in his own way. It’s jiss like de tunnel on 
de rail-road whar we went through, dark in 
de middle but light nuff to blind yer eyes at 
de oder end.” 

“ Where’s Dolly ? ” called Reggie, in the 
hall. 

“ Here we are,” answered Ned opening 
the kitchen door. 

“ Busy .? ” 

“ Oh, no, I read Aunt Axy the letter, and 
she gave us a little sermon, I like her ser- 


mons. 


3^4 


Six Little Rebels. 


“ Tell me,” said Reggie. 

“You should have heard it,” I said, “she 
was proving to me that the best thing which 
ever happened to me was papa’s getting 
hurt.” 

“ I don’t believe it,” said Reggie with em- 
phasis. 

“ Perhaps she is right,” I said. “ I may 
have needed the ‘ flickshun,’ as she says, but 
I don’t think papa did, he was always good.” 

“ I suppose she would say it is all right 
for papa to be down there, auntie so far 
away, and all the rest of these worries which 
torment me so. Dolly I can’t see it.” 

“ I don’t think I do, either, Reggie, but I 
should like to feel so sure and satisfied as 
Axy does,” I said, as we all marched into the 
dining-room and I sat down in the bay win- 
dow to shade a drawing I had made of Bak- 
er’s Island. 

Reggie went to his books, and Walter to 
his beloved tools, Bertie sat down with pen- 


A Repentant Darky. j6§ 

cil and paper to draw as cousin Dolly did, 
and Ned and Charlie sat by, watching me. 

“ I suppose,” said Ned soberly, “ that Aunt 
Axy is a real Christian, but I don’t under- 
stand her. ” 

“ I think I do,” said Chari, quietly ; “ when 
I was sick I used to think, and think, and I 
couldn’t understand why I should have a 
poor sick mother, why he should die, and we 
all have so much trouble. It used to fret 
me a good deal until Dick said something 
one day that made me feel differently.” 

“Dick!” I exclaimed, “Dick Miller! I did 
not know he ever had a sober thought in his 
life. Do tell me about it.” 

“ Yes,” said Ned, “ if rollicking Dick has 
turned parson let us hear ; he’s a jolly good 
fellow but none of your awful pious sneaks.” 

“ Hush, Ned,” said I.. 

“ One evening when he was sitting with 
with me, I felt pretty cross and I was growl- 
ing about being sick, and wondering about 
mother and all that, and old Dick he sat 


366 


Six Little Rebels, 


there listening patiently, but by and by he 
reached over, and took my hand and held it. 

“ ‘ Chari, my boy,’ said he, ‘ who built this 
little craft ? ’ 

“ ‘ I suppose I know,’ ” I answered in a cross 
tone. 

“ ‘ Do you ? Well, just look at one of those 
finger nails will you, got up in good shape 
isn’t it? finished just right, stayed well at 
the corners, strong and useful, not a bad 
color either, for a sick fellow. Do you think 
you could get up a better one ? ’ 

“ ‘ Don’t fool,’ said I. 

Never felt less like it in my life, it hurts 
way down, old fellow, to see you here, and I 
feel like knocking somebody over every time 
I think of it, but that won’t help you ; a 
cracked head isn’t the worst thing in the 
world, my boy, especially when you have a 
housefull of people getting down on their 
knees, so to speak, to worship. I think I 
I shouldn’t mind having mine cracked a lit- 


A Repentmit Darky, j6y 

tie, if Dolly, for instance, would weep over, 
and pet me as she does you.’ 

“ ‘ What has that to do with finger nails } ’ 
“ ‘ Oh, yes, beg your pardon,’ said Dick, 
with one of his little laughs, ‘I was about to 
remark, that I had a kind of feeling — 
might be mistaken you know — that any Be- 
ing who could get up a hand like this, so 
perfect, so complicated, and so helpless, and 
yet make it only one small part of a wonder- 
ful machine, might be trusted to keep it in 
his own , provided no one tampered too 
much with the screws.’ 

“ I kept perfectly still and he went on : 
‘ neither you nor I could work Walter’s pa- 
tent affair down there last summer, as he 
could ; he knew best about it, and without 
prolonging these remarks, I think between 
you and I, bad grammar Chari, but a com- 
mon blunder, that there is somebody who 
understands your machinery a little better 
than you do.’ 


368 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ I kept quiet a few moments longer, and 
then I said : 

“ ‘ Dick are you a Christian ? ’ 

“ ‘ No, Charley, I’m afraid not’ 

“‘Well, what makes you so jolly, and 
happy ? I wish I could keep it up as you do, 
but I can’t One day I am full of fun, the 
next cross as a bear, and sure to snap at 
some one. How do you manage it ? ’ 

“ ‘ You know old Plato, Chari? ’ 

“ ‘ Think I ought to,’ I answered. 

“ ‘ Well, he calls a boy a “ vicious animal.”’ 

“ ‘ He is about right, too,’ said I. 

Well, mother and I have had heaps of 
talks about it’ 

“ ‘ There it is, Dick, you have your mother.’ 

“ ‘ So have you, hasn’t she been racing in 
and out here for weeks to take care of that 
“ dear boy ? ” I am almost jealous, Charles 
my lad.” 

“ ‘ You needn’t be ; I am deep in love with 
her, though. Go on.’ 

“ ‘ What were we talking about ? oh, “ vi- 


A Repentant Darky, j6g 

cious animalsP Well mother never preaches 
you know, she lives, and that is the best 
kind of gospel, father says, — but we talk 
about all sorts of things, we are jolly chums 
you know ; once, when I had a fever only 
two years ago, she never left me night or 
day, and I did the tallest amount of think- 
ing, I can tell you. I used to say over and 
over to myself, how does she keep so cheer- 
ful and pleasant ? one day I asked her.’ 

“ ‘ “ Ah, laddie dear,” she said, “ it is just 
as much one’s duty to be pleasant and cheer- 
ful, as it is to eat.” 

“ ‘ “ But it isn’t natural mother.” 

““‘Then the fight is harder, Dick, and the 
reward greater.” 

“ ‘ She has seen no end of trouble, buried 
all her children but me, lost nearly all her 
relatives, and had a rough time of it gener- 
ally. 

“ ‘ Your mother, Dick, and she so young? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes, sir, my precious mother, ’ he went 
on: ‘so I thought it over with Dick Miller 


370 


Six Little Rebels, 


Junior, and I said: “now sir, no whining, or 
whimpering, if you feel as ugly as the dick- 
ens, look as sweet as a saint, make up your 
mind to be jolly, and make everybody else 
so ; when you feel ugly go and have it out 
by yourself.” ’ ” 

“ That is why Dick’s good-nature never 
fails,” I said, “ I have always envied him his 
disposition, and lo, he makes it what it is. 
I do believe he plans pleasure for others, 
every day of his life.” 

“ I know ^V,” said Chari, “ his mother used 
to say to him when he was little : ‘ Well, 
dear, whom shall we make happy to-day ? 

I bent my head low over my drawing to 
hide the tears ; if I only had a mother ! I 
thought ; but I said : “ It is good of you 
to tell us, Chari dear, I don’t think we ever 
gave Dick credit for his real goodness, which 
he hides under his fun and teasing;” but we 
had not time to say anything more, for in 
walked Dick himself. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


BREAKING UP. 



HAD not time to hide my tears and 
smile, before he called out : 


“ There were three crows sat on a tree. 
And they were black as crows could beT 


“ Where are the rest ” 

“ Reggie in the study, Walt in the shed, 
and—” 

“ Nuff sed, nuff sed, I came to tell you 
some news.” 

“ Good or bad } ” I asked. 

371 


372 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Miss Warrington, do you take me for a 
raven ? ” said he, making a horrible face. 

“ No, sir, only Dick Miller.” 

“ Eggs-2s:\\^, as Smith says ; well I think 
you will consider it good for me, wise for me, 
bad for me, and yet best for all of us. How 
do you like that for a riddle ? ” 

“ Don’t bother, Dick, I must be getting 
nervous, for I live in constant dread of some- 
thing terrible since the war began.” 

“ No, Dolly, you shan’t be teased ; my 
friends, I am going away.” 

I sprang from my seat and then sat down 
again, making little stabs in my drawing 
with the point of my pencil. 

“ Where Dick ? ” asked Ned. 

“To New York. Mother’s old aunt is 
worse, and left alone with hired servants ; 
father is here, there, and everywhere, as you 
know, and the court decrees that I go to and 
enter the Preparatory School which my be- 
loved pater attended in order to get ready 
for college.” 


Breaking up. 


373 


“ Oh, Dick, I can’t let your mother got it 
seems wicked ; every one has gone and left 
me that I cared for and your mother seems 
so much, such a — Dick! isn’t there some 
other way ? ” 

“ No, Dolly,” said Dick, taking the draw^ 
ing from my hand and rolling it up. “ You 
have spotted this, let me take them off for 
you ; may I ? ” 

“ Yes, I don’t care,” I said, recklessly, let 
us go tell papa.” 

We went into the library, and sent ouf 
news like a bomb shell into the little camp. • 

Reggie got up^ and walked the floor ; 
papa took Dick’s hand in his, and said : 

“You have been a comfort to us all, my 
boy, and no one will miss you more than 
your crippled friend. It is a duty-call, and 
you would be a poor soldier, not to go when 
the trumpet sounds.” 

“ It’s hanged mean!” said Ned. 

Chari was silent. I knew he was thinking 
about our talk, and watching Dick. 


374 


Six Little Rebels, 


I was almost angry with Dick Miller. 
There he stood, holding my father’s hand, 
and not saying a word ; it looked as if he 
were glad to go and leave us all, and then I 
thought of his mother, of her care and love 
for me, of our visits together to the hospitals, 
of our long talks, and walks, and it seemed 
too hard to bear, so I slipped out of the 
room and went back to my corner in the bay 
window of the dining-room. 

I wondered how I could tell Bertie, the lit- 
tle fellow would grieve so, and then I leaned 
•against the window, and sobbed. It seemed 
to me I could not even have a mother- 
friend. Oh, dear! and it was only a few 
hours since Aunt Axy had told me about 
the end of the way. Why — why was mine 
so full of tangles, and snarls } 

I heard some one open the door and Reg- 
gie’s voice say : 

“ She is in there Dick ; ” then the door 
closed, and I knew some one was standing 
by me, but I would not look up. 


Breaking up. 


375 

“ Dolly,” said he, in a cheery tone, “ I feel 
flattered, really. I rather thought you would 
be glad to get rid of one ‘ horrid boy.’ ” 

I began to choke down my tears, but I 
could not speak. 

“ Dolly, are you crying about my mother } 
because if you are, I mean to tell you some- 
thing. She is going to write to you very 
often, I heard her say so, and sometime 
when you can get away, you are to come 
and make us a visit, and Dolly, when you do 
come, I will give you a solemn promise, not 
to tease you but once a week. Don’t you 
think you are rather impolite not to speak 
to your guests ? Come, Dolly, look right at 
me now, and tell me.” 

Then he sat down on a foot rest, and put 
his face so close to mine I could not look 
away. 

“ Tell me, are you truly sorry, way, way 
down, in your warm little heart, to have 
your tease and torment go away, and not so 
much as peep into the ‘ Woodbox ’ ” 


37 ^ 


Six Little Rebels, 


“ Oh, Dick, you know I am ; it seems to 
me I have always known you all, ever since I 
was born, and your mother — ” 

The tears would come, spite of me. 

“Yes, she is as. good as gold, Dolly, and 
she will never stop loving you, be sure of 
that, mother and I are alike there ; we never 
give up a friend. Dolly, I want you to 
make me a good bye present, will you t ” 

“Yes, Dick.” 

“ I want you to give me the picture you 
were at work on just now.” 

“ You have it in your pocket.” 

“ I know ‘ possession is nine tenths of the 
law,’ but I want your permission.” 

“ It isn’t worth giving.” 

“No matter, can I have it.f*” 

“ Yes, Dick.” 

“ And now here’s your pay for it ; wear 
this little charm on your watch guard, please 
and in the language of our ancient poet : 


‘ When this you see^ remember me ! ’ 


Breaking up. 


377 


Then he put it on himself, and we both 
went in to talk with papa again. 

When Bertie came I said: 

“ Oh, Dick, you must tell him, I can’t.” 

So Dick went out, took the little fellow 
with him into the boys’ room, and we did 
not see them until the bell rang for tea, and 
then Dick insisted on going home. 

All my pet said was that he had promised 
Dick to be a good little soldier. 

That evening Dr. Miller came in, and had 
a long talk with papa, and the result of it all 
was made known to us before bed time. 
Reggie was to go with Dick. Dr. and Mrs. 
Miller were so generous and kind about it, 
and as papa said it seemed such a good 
chance for the boy to have the very drill he 
needed, we all tried to think it was right. 
At first, I begged papa to keep Reggie at 
home until after Christmas, but he said, no, 
he had better see something of his new 
home before the holidays, and Mrs. Miller 


Six Little Rebels, 


37S 

had arranged to have them with her all the 
time. . 

Reggie seemed happier as soon as it was 
all settled, but we had several quiet talks 
about Bertie and the boys before he left. 
They went so soon I had hard work to do 
all I wanted to for Reggie, and when I sat 
up until midnight to finish a needle book for 
him. Miss Lucinda said she should think 
to see and hear me that the boy was going 
to the West Indies. It was very hard to 
lose three from our little circle, and after 
they were gone, I began to see how much I 
had enjoyed them. 

We wrote regularly every week, and at 
Christmas we received a box from New 
York which no one but Mrs. Miller could 
have packed. It was filled to the very top 
with useful presents, and Dr. Miller, who 
dined with us whenever he was in town, de- 
clared his little wife must have been lying 
awake nights to plan what she should send. 

Fortunately he ate his Christmas dinner 


Breaking up. 


379 


with us, and although we missed our dear 
ones, we were a very merry party. 

The other boys grew more manly every 
day. Papa said they had relied on Reggie 
for everything and his absence would, make 
them think for themselves. 

About this time I had a letter from Cora, 
which goes on with the story I am telling. 

“ Philadelphia, . 

“ My dear Busy Bee : 

“ How glad I was to get your letter ! It 
was a shame for you to lose those big boys, 
and dear Mrs. Miller all at once, but just 
like you to say ‘ it is all for the best.’ 

“ I think it is for Reggie ; he was so sol- 
emn, and seemed to think he was responsi- 
ble for all the rest. He will find ever so 
much to take up his mind in New York be- 
sides his books, and how Mrs. Miller will 
mother him. 

“ Now, darling, what do you think I am 
doing? well, I am studying just as hard as I 


sSo 


Six Little Rebels, 


can. Reggie actually hinted — don’t sup- 
pose he meant to — that you were a far bet- 
ter scholar, as if I did not know it ! I mean 
to overtake you, dear, so look out ! You ask 
if I cannot coax papa to take a house on the 
Beverly Shore next summer ? Mamma says 
he would give me his head if he could, but 
when I mentioned it, he said : 

“ ‘ Oh, my darling, these are too uncertain 
times for planning.’ Mamma says, however, 
that we must get out of this dreadful hot 
city, and she will consent, if you will find us 
a boarding place ; housekeeping is not to be 
thought of ; she has too much of it now. 

“We seldom sit down to table alone. Papa 
is always sending or bringing someone to 
lunch or dinner ; he says he will keep open 
house to all officers, it is a duty, as well as a 
pleasure. I was the means of bringing one 
guest here, and Dolly, who do you think it 
was ? 

“ You know, I go two days in the week to 


Breaking up. 


3Sr 

take painting lessons, and the other day as I 
ran down the studio steps in an awful hurry, 
to catch a horse car, somebody knocked 
against me, and I knocked against some one 
else, who immediately said, ‘ I beg your par- 
don,’ and then I looked up, and was about to 
say, ‘ I must beg yours,’ when there before 
me stood Colonel Brentford with his arm in 
a sling ! 

“ He laughed, and laughed, and then we 
shook hands, and he insisted on carrying my 
portfolio, and I didnt take the horse car but 
we walked every step of the way home. He 
looked very pale and thin. Mamma made 
him confess that his arm was hurt worse 
than they thought at first, and he had been 
taking a short leave. He did not know 
a soul here, and when papa came he insisted 
on sending for his luggage, and keeping him 
here for a day or two at least. 

“ I can’t begin to tell you how we enjoyed it, 
especially when he took a letter out of his 


j 82^ Six Little Rebels. 

pocket from your father and Reggie, which 
told all the news from the ‘ Woodbox.’ He 
said he should try and get time to see you 
when he went through Washington, but he 
feared he might not. We took him every- 
where to see the sights, and he and mamma 
are great friends, she has his picture, and he 
carried away ours -with him. He doesn’t 
seem half as gay as he used to at your house, 
and I tell mamma I am sure he must have 
some trouble on his mind. She thinks he 
feels the horror of the war deeply, for his 
regiment was almost “ cut to pieces ” they 
say, and when he was talking it over with 
papa, he walked the floor and nearly cried 
yes, Dolly, I actually saw tears in his eyes, 
when he said, ‘ my poor brave boy si We 
have not heard a word since he left, but I 
am just as sure as I can be that the gallant 
colonel is in love with some pretty western 
girl, and the family objects. 

“ Don’t let any one read my nonsense, 
dear, I can wTite as I please to you. Write 


Breaking up, j8j 

soon, dear, and tell me what Miss Lucinda 
thinks about the beach. 

“ Your loving, 

« Cora B 

I am afraid I must give one of my own 
letters now, or the story will not be complete. 
Cora saved them all, if they were full of girls' 
talk. 

“ ‘ WooDBOx,' March ist, 

“ My dear Sister-friend : 

“ I know it is an age since I wrote but I 
could not find a spare moment; every day 
is full; if they were only forty-eight hours 
long wouldn’t it be nice ? 

“ I never dare say I am tired for fear papa 
will make me give up something and what 
could it be ? 

“ Not study with him ? Never. Not les- 
sons on the organ, no indeed, they rest me ; 
not the care of Bertie for he needs me, and I 
love him ; not my ‘ boys in blue,’ for it is my 
one comfort every night when I say my 


^ 8 ^ Six Little Rebels. 

prayers, that I have done some little, wee, bit 
of good down there. 

“Yesterday when I went down, it was a lit- 
tle late, and as I entered the ward one of 
the stewards said, ‘ you are none too soon 
miss, “No. 9” refuses to take his nourish- 
ment until you come, and the doctor is very 
particular about it’ ‘ No. 9 ’ is the little 
man I told you about, who cannot move his 
hands or feet, had an attack of paralysis out 
on picket, and yet his brain is clear as a bell, 
while his body is just enough alive to keep 
him in torture. When they fed him thejr 
used to spill his food, and it worried him, he 
is so nice. I sat down, and gave him his 
beef tea, and then told him how my music 
teacher rapped my fingers for making a 
blunder, which I made because I was won- 
dering if he had taken his breakfast. He 
smiled poor fellow, a sick, wan smile, and 
looked at my hands as if he wanted to see if 
they were hurt I held them both up and 
told him they were all right, but next time, if 


Breaking up, j8^ 

I came late, he must take his food for my 
sake. 

“ You can’t think, Cora, how I get attached 
to some of my ‘ boys.’ 

“ Dr. Greeley called me away one day to 
help him dress a wound, and while we were 
doing it what do you think he said ? 

“ I can’t forget it, although I must try to. 
‘ Miss Warrington, you should study medi- 
cine, you have already had more practice than 
half of our young M. D’s.’ 

“ ‘ I wish I could,’ said I, eagerly, ‘ when I 
am a little older.’ 

“ ‘ And why not, pray ? ’ 

“ ‘ I think you forget that I can never 
leave papa,’ I said, feeling provoked with 
him for asking. 

“ ‘ Ah ! ’ said he, ‘ now I was thinking, 
what a good thing it would be for your 
father, say a few years hence.’ 

“ ‘ Do you mean what you say, Dr. Gree- 
ley ? ’ I asked. 

“ He was bending over the shoulder wound 


j86 Six Little Rebels, 

of our patient, but he stopped, looked up, 
and with those great eyes of his, fairly gaz- 
ing through me, said : 

“ ‘ I mean, that you show wonderful apti- 
tude, wonderful nerve, and the clearness of 
judgment, that is needed; and I mean that 
no other woman of your years has ever 
raised a finger inside of these walls, and 
never will. You inherit your fathers skill, 
and although I have always had a strong 
prejudice against women as physicians, I will 
gladly help you on, and perhaps one of these 
days call you Doctor Warrington.’ 

“ I declare, Cora, it nearly frightened me, 
for I have often thought how much I should 
like it, but the whole thing is impossible ; 
how could I ever go to college, or what 
would papa do without his housekeeper 

“ No, dear, that is a girl's dream, I am 
all papa has, and I must never leave him. 
It makes my heart jump to think of it, — 
school, study, and all the advantages of com- 
panions, but Cora here I am, and here 


Breaking up. 


387 

must I stay. I think, if we should once turn 
our steps in the wrong direction on the path 
Aunt Axy talks of, even He would not be 
able to make the way end right. 

“No, I shall never go to college. 

“We hear good news from the boys. 
‘ Reggie studies very hard,’ Mrs. Miller 
writes, and ‘ Dick is doing very well, for such 
a rattle-pate.’ 

“ Charlie and Walter tell Ned he shall not 
surpass them, and even little Bertie is quite 
anxious to be a good boy and ‘ go to college 
like Reggie.’ 

“ Colonel Brentford did not come to us ; I 
am sorry he is so sad as you say, it may be 
a love affair. 

“ And now dear, here comes the cream of 
my letter if there is any cream to it. Miss 
Lucinda has made arrangements to take care 
of us all the coming summer. Her plan is, 
to have her little stable turned into a house 
where she will live with the servants and 
cook for us, we. to use the whole of her nest 


388 


Six Little Rebels, 


Could anything be better? this will give us 
a room for guests, and Mrs. Miller begs to 
join us during the boys’ vacation while the 
invalid aunt will go up to her house on the 
Hudson, and have a very good woman to 
take care of her, and Mrs. Miller can have a 
quiet rest. 

“ Isn’t it delightful ? 

“ Papa says I must say “ D. V.” for unless 
He is willing, all our plans will come to 
naught, so if nothing happens, Cora dear, 
we will all flit sea-ward by the middle of 
Mayor first of June, and not- return until 
October ; but the ‘ big boys ’ cannot come 
until the vacation begins in July. All well. 

“ Lovingly, 


Dolly.’ 



CHAPTER XXVII. 


ABOUT BOYS. CORA TO DOLLY. 

‘ Y precious Friend : 

“ Here we are in New York, 
aren’t you surprised ? 

“We came away suddenly, 
you may be sure, or I should 
have written. 

“ Good news first. — Papa is much pleased 
with the Beverly plan and mamma speaks of 
it every day. Won’t we study, deary .? Those 

389 



390 


Six Little Rebels, 


‘horrid boys ’ shall not startle us with their 
learning. Why Dick, — but, oh dear I haven’t 
told you yet. You see we are here at papa’s 
sister’s ; they only came home from Europe a 
few weeks ago ; uncle had to come on ac- 
count of the war, for his money is all in cot- 
ton or something. Anyway he is away nearly 
all the time, and auntie, who has only one 
child, a son by her first marriage, keeps 
house here in elegant style. John, that is my 
would-be cousin — hateful name, isn’t it 
dear.^^ — John, is a classmate of Dick’s and 
Reggie’s, and as soon as I found it out, we 
made up a little surprise. 

“ Auntie is very fond of young men, and 
has had them here several times, so Jack and 
I — everybody calls him Jack Montgomery — 
we planned some fun. 

“In the first place, auntie drove round 
with mamma and I to call on Mrs. Miller. 
We found her as lovely as ever, and she said 
the boys should not know from her about 
my being here : then auntie left an invita- 


About Boys , — Cora to Dolly, 


tion for the ‘young gentlemen,’ — think of 
you calling ‘ our boys ’ young gentlemen ! — 
to come up to six o’clock dinner, for she had 
business of importance to explain to them. 

“‘You see dear,’ she said, ‘ I have been 
coaxed by Jack to write a little play for them, 
and as I would do anything in the world to 
make him happy at home, I have done it; of 
course it is very, very simple, but it will 
serve as a pastime, and make our young peo- 
ple happy.’ 

“ I think it is so good in auntie. She is 
very, very wealthy, and yet mamma says she 
has been doing for others ever since she 
knew her. Only think Dolly, she was the 
first lady in all her fashionable set to open 
her house on New Year’s Day, and not have 
a drop of wine! How everybody talked! 
Even her husband thought she would 
make herself too conspicuous by such a 
step, but papa said Aunt Laura smiled and 
replied : 

“ ‘ You know, dear, if a thing is right I 


^g2 Six Little Rebels. 

should do it, if I stood alone on Mount 
Pisgah.’ I call that brave, don t you Dolly ? 
Well, the ‘boys’ came and I was hid. 
When they were all busy talking over the 
parts, and Dick said he couldn’t think of a 
girl to take the part of Miss Sallie Dare-all 
because it needed some one with snap, and 
fun, auntie gave a little pat with her hands 
as our signal, and out I walked from behind 
the curtain. 

“ It was real fun to see those boys ! Dick 
rushed up, and for half a second, I really 
thought he was going to kiss me, it would 
have been just like him you know, if he 
wanted to tease ; then Reggie came forward 
in his cool, calm way, and said quietly : 
‘ This is capital, is Dolly hiding there, too .? ’ 

“ Poor fellow, his face grew sober when I 
said, ‘ No, Reggie, I wish she were.’ 

“ Then I sat down on the sofa, and the 
boys stared, and asked questions all about my 
letters from you, and dear old ‘ Home ' as 
Reggie called it. Dolly, I told them all the 


About Boys , — Cora to Dolly, jgj 

good things I could think of ; how you had 
done so well with your playing that you 
had managed the organ for two Sundays ; 
how you thought you would like to go to 
college, but never could, on account of your 
father, and everything which I thought you 
would be willing to have them know. 

“ It did seem like old days to me to see 
them. Reggie has been growing handsome ; 
Dick tells me, he is the best scholar in his 
class, and auntie thinks he is her favorite of 
all the ‘fellows’ Jack brings home. Jack 
calls them all ‘ fellows.’ 

“ The play is all settled. I am to be Sal- 
lie, — the name of it, is “ Outside and ini' 
showing what absurd blunders people make 
by looking at the outside of things, instead 
of investigating. We all wish you could 
have my part, you would do it so much bet- 
ter than I. 

“‘Mr. Skim’o-long ’ is Jack, Dick is a 
‘ Deacon Curious,’ and Reggie is the best 
‘ Professor ’ you ever saw. We have some 


394 


Six Little Rebels, 


queer sayings I assure you. Dick’s part is 
so comical I laugh whenever I think of it. 
But I won’t tell you any more about it, for 
Reggie says we will have it played next 
summer at Beverly, and you must take the 
part of Eunice the Professor’s wife, who is 
bothered and tormented by his wonderful re- 
searches. How well you would do it ! It 
was too bad you had to refuse Mrs. Miller’s 
invitation ; I knew you would. Catch you 
leaving your helpless father ! oh, Dolly, you 
are so brave, and unselfish ; I should growl, 
sulk, scold, storm, and be hateful generally, 
but, Dolly dear, naughty as I am, I am still 

“ Your Cora. 

“ P. S. Tell Miss Lucinda mamma will 
write to her, and thinks her very kind to 
take so much trouble. 

“ Reggie and Dick say they will write as 
soon as our play is over. 


Cora.’ 


About Boys . — Cora to Dolly. S95 

From Reggie. 

Dear Good People: 

“We are doing pretty well in our stud- 
ies, but not as well as I wish, for do my 
best I never get the mark I aim for. Dick 
seems to walk in a sort of charmed manner 
over all difficulties and I envy him his won- 
derful memory. Think of sitting down, and 
reading over three or four pages, and then, 
being able to recite them verbatim ; and yet, 
Dick does this, week after week, while I pore 
as hard as I can. 

“ I have been thinking over the contents 
of your letter, dear doctor, and I have about 
made up my mind that ‘ Harvard is the best 
place.’ This winter has done me good, but 
I have always heard my father say he pre- 
ferred Harvard, on many accounts. Dick 
says if I try for that examination he will, and 
his father consents ; meantime, I want to be 
sure of a thorough preparation. Whatever 
you think best will settle me in the matter. 


Six Little Rebels, 


396 

“ I hope you will let me know about the 
financial affairs I wrote you about. Please 
doctor, do not let us burden you. 

“ I am glad Ned and the rest get on so 
well. Tell Ned he must try to follow me in 
a year, if I get into Harvard. 

“It was a great pleasure to see Miss Cora 
B. and hear from you all — of many little 
things which Dolly does not tell us. 

“ Dick will write full particulars of our 
play. 

“Yours truly, 

“ Reginald." 

Were ever boys more unlike? Reggie, so 
business-like, and solemn, and Dick, such a 
rollicking, fun-loving rogue. Here is Dick s 
letter which came with the other. 

“ Dear Cousin Dolly : 

“ I am ‘ counted in ’ you know, and as 
I cannot write to half a dozen people all 
in one breath, so to speak, I prefer to address 
your highness, and you may pass it around. 


About Boys , — Cora to Dolly. 

as our fore-fathers, and fore-mothers, used to 
a mug of cider. 

“ Concerning Reg, he is a trump. A. i. 
on the books, — A. i. everywhere. 

“ The play was a success ; Cora did her 
part pretty well, Reggie his very well. Jack 
excellent, yours truly, passable, and the rest 
‘ fair to middling.’ 

“ I don’t think we feel quite so much of 
the war as we did there ; we hear enough in 
all conscience ; at our house, when the pa- 
per comes morning and evening, it is at 
once torn in two parts, we are all so eager to 
hear the news. 

“ That Beverly arrangement suits me to 
a charm, especially if we are fortunate 
enough to get into Harvard ; haven’t a 
doubt of Reg. 

“ How does Miss Lucinda do.^ What is 
Walt whittling out.f^ 

“ How do you progress with Greek } Cora 
says, you have figured at the organ in 
church. Good ! but see here cousin Dolly, 


jg8 Six Little Rebels. 

don’t you let that squint-eyed chorister talk 
nonsense to you. 

“ Think of your wounded admirer, the 
colonel ! Lucky he didn’t get into the ‘ Sem- 
inary,’ or the ‘ Union ’ to be cared for, or we 
might have had a romance, and the dear 
‘ uncle doctor,’ might have lost his house- 
keeper. 

“ Cora said something about ‘ college,’ — 
do you mean it ? 

“ Don’t, I shouldn’t stand any chance ; be- 
sides, I am afraid of learned women. Think 
of the ‘ Peace Sisters,’ and be happy. 

“ How I laughed over Bertie’s plum pud- 
ding, dear little chap ! 

“ Tell him ‘ cousin Dick ’ kisses his pict- 
ure every time he looks at it, which is pretty 
often seeing ■ it is inside his watch case. 
Whose picture do you think is on the other 
side ? Won’t do to tell. 

“ Do you know Reggie is getting so broad 
across the shoulders, his best coat fits like a 
straight-jacket, and all we can say, he won’t 


About Boys . — Cora to Dolly. jpp 

get another. Solemn old owl ; he says he 
must be economical, until he hears how his 
father is coming out of this struggle. How 
do you like Jack Montgomery? you must 
have a pretty good idea of him, from all our 
letters. He is ‘ not pleasing to look at,’ as 
Miss Lucinda would say, but he is a kind 
old soul, and gives away more money every 
week, than most of us have in a month. His 
mother Mrs. VanCleve, is one of our sort., 
motherly, and refined. They live in swell 
style, ( beg pardon, I didn’t mean to use a 
word of slang, but remember I am only a 
‘ horrid boy ’ ) and she is one of the leading 
Sanitary workers, keeps one seamstress al- 
ways at work for the soldiers, and is called 
‘ proud ’ by people who don’t know a grand 
woman when they see one. Don’t she make 
things pleasant for us though ? 

“ She would like to have Cora with her all 
the time, but I don’t wonder Mrs. Birney 
cannot bear to give her up. I suppose my 


Six Little Rebels, 


400 

blessed mate has told you all about our home 
affairs, so I will only say that Dr. Miller is 
still away on Government business; that 
grand aunt Follansbee is still nervous, and 
fanciful, that my beloved mother waits on 
her like a saint and endures fault-finding like 
a martyr, and that Reggie and I still have 
our big room to do as we please in, and my 
sweet-heart (wonder if I shall ever have an- 
other, I shall love as well as my lovely 
mother,) comes every night, and sits with us 
for an hour or two after aunt Follansbee is 
asleep. Of course, we talk about our friends 
at the ‘ Woodbox.’ Hurra ! for next summer ! 
won’t we spin about in that new boat } won’t 
we lead Josiah out on tramps 1 won’t we have 
fun with little Budd 1 

“ Would it were here ! 

“ Reg calls out, ‘ Come, Dick ; come to 
bed ; when you get hold of a pen, you never 
know when to stop.’ 

“ I shout back, ‘ Coming, coming, most no- 


About Boys . — Cora to Dolly. 401 


ble lord.’ And so good night. By the by, 
if you want to keep me out of scrapes, write 
long letters — missionary work, Dolly, — 
pax vobiscum. 


Dick.’ 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 



ONE MORE SUMMER. 

^ERTIE’S “plum pudding” requires an 
explanation. 

Papa and I were very busy, or I was with 
my Homer, when Bertie put his head in to 
ask if he might take Johnny Young into the 
kitchen, and have some pop corn ? I said 
yes, if they would mind Aunt Axy, quite for- 
getting that I had sent her down to the hos- 
pital with some things Dr. Greely wanted. 

Miss Lucinda was in her room darning 
stockings, and her devoted Gen. Scott was 

402 


One More Summer, 


403 


of course near by, so the young rogues had 
it all their own way. 

I have always been laughed at for my 
nose, “scenting trouble afar off,” as papa 
says, and suddenly I knew something was 
burning. I rushed to the kitchen and found 
it completely filled with smoke. At first I 
thought it was all on fire, but I soon found 
that popping corn had proved too tame, and 
the young gentlemen were trying experiments. 
Johnny Young was spelling out words from 
a cook book, and Bertie, with one hand up to 
his eyes, was stirring something, which he 
spilled over upon the red hot stove with 
every motion of the spoon ; still the little 
Casablanca stood at his post. 

“ Bertie, Bertie, my darling, what are you 
doing } ” 

“ Only making a pudding, Dolly, and 
Johnny says it’s cider you put in, it isn’t 
is it ” 

“ What kind of a pudding 1 ” I asked, try- 
ing to look sober. 


Six Little Rebels, 


404 

“ It’s a plum pudding, like you made when 
Dick and Reggie went over to camp.” 

Yes, I had made one, and Bertie who had 
watched the operation confounded it with 
the boiling of syrup for ginger snaps which 
I made at the same time. 

Aunt Axy was such a superior cook I sel- 
dom ventured into her kingdom, but once in 
a while I tried a bit of cookery.” 

Both boys were sprinkled with flour ; 
Johnny worst, for his velvet jacket held it 
fast. Aunt Axy’s white pine table of which 
she was so proud, was daubed with grease, 
molasses, and sugar; the floor, — well, as 
Aunt Axy expressed it : “ dat ar floor, was 
wuss un a camp meetin’ eatin’-house.” 

I suppose I should have punished them 
both, for papa says, “weak indulgence is al- 
ways cruelty ; ” but the little culprits looked 
so comical, and they were so angry with 
each other, Johnny, spelling out slowly with 
his little, fat, dirty finger, c-i-t-r-o-n and insist 
ing that it was cider, while Bertie knew 


One More Summer. 


405 


cousin Dolly did not put in cider, it was cis- 
tern all covered with white sugar, that I 
could not. After I had laughed until both 
shavers stared at me in amazement I washed 
them up and made each of them swallow 
two spoonfuls of their “ plum pudding ” as a 
punishment. I knew it could not hurt 
them. 

Reggie wrote home when he received my 
letter telling him of this frolic, that I was al- 
together too easy with Bertie, he required a 
firm hand. Poor baby, if Reg had seen 
those handsome eyes full of tears as I did, 
when I talked with him that night, he, well, 
boys are conceited ; but how could I be stern 
with a dead woman’s child 1 

I must give one more letter of Cora’s from 
New York, because it recalls some of the 
trials of the war, to our little circle, and as 
papa said, explained “ how the women could, 
and did bear arms.” 

“No soldier with his musket ever did 
more good service than the women in the 


Six Little Rebels, 


4.06 

hospitals, and homes, the Sanitary Commis- 
ions, and, like dear Mrs. Thorpe, in the 
field,” so Dr. Greeley said; and for such a 
gruff old surgeon, I thought it high praise. 

“ New York, March^ 1862, 

“ My dear Dolly : 

“ All our pleasant times are ended for the 
present. Poor Mrs. Miller is in deep afflic- 
tion, and we all feel it as if we were relatives. 
I think Dick has told you about his mother’s 
only brother, all the relative she had except 
this old aunt. He was here, only three 
weeks since. 

“ Handsome, gifted, young Roger Morris ! 
don’t you remember seeing his picture over 
the piano in Georgetown } He has been West 
most of the time since the war broke out, 
and only came on to command a brigade in 
the army of the Potomac since we came to 
New York. He was a West Pointer, and 
could not rest content until he was ordered 
here ‘ to be in the thick of it,’ as he said. 


One More Summer. 4.0J 

“ The morning he left, we were all over 
there to breakfast, and when he began to put 
on his sword, he stopped a moment, went up 
to his sister, and said, holding out his sash : 

“ ‘ Perhaps you would like to do this for 
me, sis, it may be the last chance, you 
know/ 

“ Mrs. Miller took one end of the sash and 
‘ wound him up ’ as he called it, and he took 
her face between his hands and kissed her, 
saying with a laugh, she ‘ always claims that 
for pay.’ When he left the house the boys 
went with him, and Mrs. Miller said to 
mamma and me, ‘ I wish Roger did not seem 
so glad to go, but he is every inch a soldier.’ 
She felt badly I could see, but she went on 
just the same, only a trifle paler than usual. 

“ And now comes the sad part. He made 
his sister promise not to attempt to find his 
body if he should fall. • It is neither brave, 
nor loyal,’ he said, ‘ to put the government to 
so much trouble, to say nothing of your 
friends ; I want to die like a soldier and be 


Six Little Rebels, 


408 

buried like one ; and mind, sister, no boun- 
ties or pensions for me ; my life belongs to 
my country, if it is good for anything, let it 
go.’ Then came the tidings so soon after, 
that he had fallen, the brave, young man, 
and the last of his family! We read the 
news in our evening paper : ‘ A reconnais- 
sance in force and all done,’ the despatch 
said, ‘ to withdraw the enemy’s attention 
from more important movements.’ We went 
’•ound to Mrs. Miller’s at once. Aunt Laura 
and mamma were going, and I would not be 
left at home. 

“ Oh, Dolly, how strong women are in 
trouble ! I shall never forget Mrs. Miller’s 
eyes, as long as I live ; there was not the 
slightest outcry, only dumb sorrow. The 
family idolized him, her one, darling brother, 
and I could not help crying for her. Dick 
^at down by her and held her hand ; Reg- 
gie had gone out to send word to the doctor, 
but for days, and days, the despatch could 
not find him. 


One More Summer. 


409 

“In his last letter he wrote, ‘ I am so 
thankful Roger has been ordered East; he is 
too gifted to spend his days fighting Indians,’ 
and poor Mrs. Miller read that with her face 
like marble, when her gifted Roger lay dead 
on the field of battle. 

“ Yesterday, a gentleman brought her his 
watch, sword and belt; and oh, Dolly, the 
very sash she had tied on, as he said ‘ for the 
last time.’ Mrs. Miller took them all and 
went to her room, where she staid for two or 
three hours ; after that, she came back and 
answered all the old aunt’s fretful questions 
in her own gentle way. We did intend to 
go home this week, but Mrs. Miller urged 
me to spend a few days with her on account 
of the boys, Dick feels this so much, and it 
is harder for them all having the doctor 
away.” 

Just as soon as I finished reading Cora’s 
letter I sat down and wrote to Mrs. Miller, 


^10 Six Little Rebels. 

but I tore up at least six sheets of paper be- 
fore I had one fit to send. 

A girl of my age could only say things in 
the worst way, I know, but it seemed to me 
I felt Roger Morris’ death myself. I had 
neither brother nor sister, and like Mrs. 
Miller, my mother was dead. I don’t know 
what I said, but I was glad I wrote it, poor 
as it was, for she wrote in return : 

“ It was such a comforting little letter I 
have read it over and over.” 

The spring came, then the summer, and 
once more we all went to the sea side. 

Mrs. Miller went with papa and me, and 
Mrs. Van Cleoe followed with the boys, as 
soon as the term closed. 

Again the little railroad was used, but this 
time much improved; again our boats 
danced over the water, and Josiah acted as 
pilot. 

Harvard Budd once rriore made calls, and 
devoted himself to Cora ; the cheerful doc- 


One More Summer, 


411 

tor came from Cambridge, and brightened 
papa’s summer with thoughtful letters and 
gifts of books. 

Once more the Peace sisters welcomed us, 
and the “ Hoss Club” worked on; once 
more our merry hearted boys with Dick for 
leader, got into scrapes, and out again ; and 
once more we read our papers with beating 
hearts, lest we should find the name of 
some loved one amid the killed and wounded ; 
but the summer passed and the autumn 
came. 

Again we turned our faces homeward leav- 
ing behind us our three big boys, for Jack, 
Dick and Reggie “passed” and entered “fair 
old Harvard.” 

And now, dear readers, if you wish to 
know more of my “ Six Little Rebels ” and 
their friends, if you are anxious to hear what 
became of Mrs. Neville and Colonel Gresh- 
am, if the doctor is half as dear to you as to 
me, and Dolly and Cora are the lovable girls 
I know them to be ; if you are interested in 


Six Little Rebels, 


^12 

the gallant colonel from Michigan or his 
mischievous servant Lex, let us still journey 
together and read their history in another 
volume called 


Doctor Dick.’ 


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